The Jazz Maverick, the Mod & the Wardrobe
by violence4
Summary: The flat is falling apart, people are vanishing, and Naboo's spells don't work. Could this have anything to do with the strange portal in Vince's wardrobe? A portal that leads to a very genius bedroom and two men with suspiciously familiar voices...
1. Something breaking

**I wasn't going to write any more long stories until "Bliss Of Another Kind" was finished but, you know, when ideas call...**

**I was in HMV over the weekend browsing movies, and I came across the League of Gentlemen movie, and the tagline was something like "to save their world, they're coming to ours" - and I thought, what a spiffing idea for a fanfiction! Also, I love the idea of Howard and Vince meeting Noel and Julian (I've read some other stuff like that) so I thought I'd try my own.**

**Apologies for the title but as I said, I'm crap at titling. This has nothing to do with C.S. Lewis.**

**Also, sorry this is so long but I wanted to set the scene.**

**Also, I'm sorry Noel and Julian are so angsty, but they will cheer up. I needed a reason for the Boosh to be stopping, that was all. I also just had to make them like Howard and Vince as I don't know what they're really like (although, judging by interviews, they ARE just like Howard and Vince).**

**Disclaimer: made it quite clear it isn't mine, haven't I?**

* * *

**Chapter One**

**_"Something breaking... tearing apart..."_**

Vince Noir didn't do anything. He honestly didn't. He had no idea why the table suddenly split down the middle.

He yelped with shock as the two halves tottered and crashed to the floor, one either side of the kitchen, leaving a strange-looking gap where the table should have been.

A door banged further off in the flat, and Howard Moon appeared.

"Not again," he said, when he saw the table.

Things had been happening. At first small things, then bigger things – much bigger things. At first, it was light bulbs going. One went, then another a week later. Then three went on one day. Then all the lights round Vince's mirror all blew up spontaneously, scaring the mod so much that he wouldn't go into his bedroom for the rest of the day. Then one of the sofas suddenly collapsed when someone sat on it. They might have assumed this was because of the person's weight, if that person hadn't been Naboo.

And now the table.

Howard looked at Vince's frightened, confused face. This was a mystery just begging to be solved. An adventure practically crawling on the floor, asking for him to have it. Only the most intelligent, brave, and daring man could hope to work out what was going on before the whole building fell down, or something equally undesirable. Clearly a job for Howard Moon, Man of Action.

But Howard Moon, Man of Action, was totally at a loss. So he exercised the skill and courage that was practically bursting out of him by calling Naboo, who was never pleased to be disturbed. So it was, he told himself, a courageous thing to have done.

Vince, meanwhile, had sat down on the sofa and wrapped his arms round his knees. "What's happenin', Howard?" he muttered.

Howard, on the phone, flapped a hand at him impatiently – somewhat annoyed that Vince didn't seem more impressed with his quick thinking and problem solving.

"Hey, this is Naboo, don't leave a message cause I won't reply…"

Howard groaned.

"Naboo! Hey. It's Howard here. Just calling to see how you are – and also to say that the table broke in half, so maybe, if you could just… come home? Tonight? Tomorrow? Not urgent. We can manage, of course. Well, Vince can't. I can. And I can look after Vince, so don't worry… but maybe, you know, if you felt like it…"

Oh dear.

Howard hung up before he made things any worse. He turned to Vince, hoping he hadn't heard. But Vince was preoccupied with his hair. Not that there was anything particularly unusual about that – but this time, Vince was looking critically in the mirror on the wall. Looking critically at his own hair? This meant something was very wrong in the world of Vince Noir.

"Vince?" Howard asked, worried.

"It won't go right," said Vince.

Vince's hair always went right. This didn't sound good.

"What do you mean?"

"I dunno, it just doesn't look right. It looks wrong, Howard. I can't work out what it is."

Howard joined Vince by the mirror and looked at him. He couldn't put his finger on it, but maybe now Vince mentioned it, there was something a bit off about his style…

"Don't worry about it, little man. It looks fine."

"Don't worry about it! When I look like a hay stack on legs? Don't worry about it?" Vince turned distractedly back to the mirror. "Maybe I need to straighten it again…" He wandered off distractedly.

-----

Half an hour later, Naboo returned.

Howard was surprised to see him. Naboo was normally reluctant to get involved in things like this. But when he came in, he seemed genuinely worried. "Where's the table, then?" he said.

"I moved it into the hall to get it out of the way," said Howard, proud of himself for thinking of doing this.

"Okay," said Naboo. "Bollo, I might need some stuff, so stand by, okay?"

"Okay," grunted the gorilla.

The three of them went into the hall. The two halves of the table sat silently. Naboo bent over them, while Howard watched and nodded knowingly so the others might think he had an idea what was going on.

Then he noticed Naboo was shaking his head, and so he shook his as well. This was obviously a worrying situation. Things like this didn't happen. It meant… it was a worrying situation.

"I don't understand it," Naboo said suddenly. "It's a clean break."

"What?" asked Howard, caught off guard by this unexpected comment.

"It's just split. It's like a rip," Naboo was saying, running his hands over the wood. "It feels weird, too…" His eyes started to glaze over.

"Naboo?"

"Shh. Trance," Bollo hissed.

"Oh. Of course." Howard went silent.

"It's… there's weird energy here…" Naboo muttered, swaying around a bit and groping at the table. "Something breaking… tearing apart…" He was starting to shake.

"What? What's breaking? What's tearing apart?" Howard asked.

"Shh," hissed Bollo.

But Naboo suddenly twitched and jerked. He blinked. The trance was over.

"Broke trance," Bollo groaned at Howard. "Big Northern idiot."

Howard decided not to dignify this comment with a reply. "Did you see anything else, Naboo?" he asked.

"There's pain here," Naboo murmured. He stroked the broken edges of the table almost lovingly. "But I can't see. Something's blocking me. I don't understand… I should be able to see."

Howard and Bollo exchanged worried glances and waited for Naboo to speak again. But he just went on stroking the table, swaying a little, not speaking.

-----

_Two days later._

A sudden shriek made Howard and Bollo jump.

Bollo jumped so much he spilt tea all over himself. He groaned as his fur was soaked.

"Vince!" Howard gasped. The sound had come from the mod's bedroom.

Things were serious. Naboo had been examining the table almost night and day, but he wasn't getting anything. Just pain, and something breaking. He was frustrated. He had never not been able to see before.

Howard understood just how serious this situation might be. He had no idea what was going on, but it was serious, yes sir. He rushed to his friend's room.

"Vince!" he cried, bursting through the door with Bollo behind him, almost crashing into Howard's back when he stopped suddenly. Vince was standing by his mirror, bent over.

"What's all this noise…?" Howard started to ask, confused because there didn't seem to be a problem. But he tailed off as Vince turned round. He was clutching his hair straightners in one hand – and something else in the other. He was shaking visibly. Howard peered at what Vince was holding. Black, silky strands, very obvious against Vince's pale skin…

"My hair's falling out!" Vince croaked, eyes wide with horror.

"What's going on?" asked Naboo, who had been pouring over various spell books in his own room, appearing in the doorway.

"My hair!" Vince rasped again, starting to tremble even more violently.

"Oh no," Naboo said.

"Glue it back in?" Bollo suggested.

"I can't glue it, I'm not a doll!" Vince screeched. "I'm gonna be ugly! I'm gonna be bald! I'll look old, old like Howard – maybe even older than Howard!" He clutched at his head.

"Vince, calm down!" Howard said, choosing to ignore Vince's remark about his age because he knew that Vince was in such a state he didn't really understand what he was saying.

"Calm down! Calm down!" Vince screamed. "When I might go bald? I'll have to be the Electro Monk! Bald as a vulture!"

"Vince…" Howard reached out for his friend.

"No!" Vince shrieked. "Don't touch me! You might make it worse! It might be Howard oldness rubbin' off on me!" He took his hands off his head to push Howard away. More hair came away with his fingers.

Vince started screaming. He curled up on the floor, hands over his head.

"Naboo, do something!" Howard cried in a panic.

"Bollo," said Naboo, "Get the amulet! We'll take Vince to the Fountain of Youth!"

Bollo crashed out of the room and returned a moment later.

"I'm gettin' old!" Vince howled in the background.

"Don't worry, no-one knows with me and they won't need to know with you either," said Naboo. He reached out for Vince's hand – and then had to grab his arm, because Vince was still covering his head, as though he thought the rest of his hair might fly off if he didn't hold it down. "Right. Back soon." Naboo pressed the middle of the amulet – and nothing happened.

There was a short silence.

"Maybe it needs new batteries," said Howard. "I'll get new batteries –"

"No. I changed 'em yesterday," Naboo said.

Vince wailed.

Naboo opened the amulet. "It's all connected. It should be workin'. I don't understand."

"What's happened to me?" Vince cried.

"Vince, relax!"

"Relax? Relax? When I'm shedding like – like a shed?"

"Like a shed?" Howard asked.

"I've got to get to the chemist! I need somethin' to stop it!" Vince leapt up, still clutching his head, and made a bid for the doorway. Howard seized him. "No! Calm down!"

"Let go of me!" Vince shrieked, struggling.

"Bollo, we need to knock him out," Naboo said. "Get the –" But he broke off, because Bollo reached over and thumped Vince on the head. He collapsed in Howard's arms, unconscious.

"Bollo! I meant drug 'im, not just take him out."

"Oh. Sorry."

"Oh well. It's the same thing. Howard, get him into bed, yeah? I need to consult my books. Bollo, I'll need your help. There could be serious magic at work…"

Howard nodded as Naboo and Bollo left the room. He looked down at his prone friend.

"All right, little man. Let's get you into bed."

He lifted Vince up in his arms – he was heavier than he looked – and staggered awkwardly to the bed with him. He tried to place Vince gently on the mattress, but lost his balance as he bent over and fell forwards, landing on top of him.

This was not the kind of position that Howard Moon was used to being in at all. No, sir. And he didn't even fantasise about being in it with another man. He leapt up hastily.

Vince stayed sprawled on the bed, hair spread out round his head. He looked rather pale. Impulsively, Howard reached out and brushed his hair out of his face – carefully, so as not to dislodge any more.

Howard hoped Vince wouldn't get a bruise where Bollo had hit him. A combination of that and hair loss could probably drive his electro friend to suicide, and although he was Howard Moon, Man of Action, he didn't really want to have to climb the building to stop Vince throwing himself off the top.

-----

_A few hours later._

Vince was sitting miserably on the sofa. He'd come round about an hour after Bollo knocked him out, but had refused to leave his room – "I can't have people seein' me like this!" It was only after hours of pleading that Howard finally persuaded him to come out, and even then, it was only wearing the biggest hat Howard had ever seen. It was so big it was probably bigger than Naboo. Vince looked good in hats. But that one didn't really suit even him. It was bright red and very floppy, like an old-fashioned woman's sun hat, and it had horrible paper flowers. Given the circumstances, Howard had decided not to ask why Vince had bought it.

Naboo was sitting, equally miserably, on the other sofa. He wasn't even smoking hookah. He hadn't been able to work out what was going on. The spells didn't seem to work.

Howard knew that Naboo was very worried by this. Shamen spells shouldn't just stop working. Even he realised must really be something very serious going on.

He brought everyone food, attempting to look cheerful. Normally, Howard Moon's presence would be enough to lighten even the darkest of rooms. Or that was what Howard told himself. But not today.

Howard sat down on the sofa next to Vince (Bollo was taking up the cushions by Naboo). He tried smiling around at everyone but nobody reacted. Howard sighed, reached for the remote, and flicked on the television.

"In breaking news, a famous explorer has disappeared. Dixon Bainbridge was last seen two days ago going into his house. He was reported missing this morning by Mr Bob Fossil, the manager of the zoo he owns."

"What?" Howard said. Even Vince had looked up, peering under the rim of his hat.

"Turn it up," Naboo said. Howard pressed the volume control on the remote.

A picture of Bainbridge, in all his moustache-d glory, was being shown on the screen. The newsreader's voice said: "Police say they are baffled by the mysterious disappearance of the explorer. They say they have found no signs that Mr Bainbridge was taken against his will."

The picture changed to a police sergeant, talking animatedly into several microphones held out by excited journalists. "At this moment we are closely examining the theory that Mr Bainbridge disappeared of his own accord," he was saying. "However, we have not ruled out the prospect that he has been taken by a third party or parties. If anyone has any information, we would like to ask them to contact their nearest police station. It is vital that we locate Mr Bainbridge as soon as possible, before he comes to any serious harm."

Howard, Vince, Bollo and Naboo all exchanged bewildered looks.

The newsreader was back. "Some have linked Bainbridge's disappearance to the other mysterious disappearances of the famous musicians Rudi Van DiSarnio and Spider Dijon, who vanished last week from…"

"They went missing too?" Howard asked.

"Police are at pains to say they are still treating the two cases as separate. However, a chief inspector said that a link was a line of enquiry worth pursuing."

Naboo was staring at the television screen. "Oh, God," he mumbled.

"What?" Howard asked, trying to hide the fact that he felt quite frightened – not something a Man of Action was supposed to feel. "Do you know what's happening? Are more people going to vanish?"

"Yeah, what?" Vince asked. "And what about my hair? Is that gonna go missing, too?"

"There's something really wrong here," Naboo muttered. Shadows drew in around them. Howard shivered and leant closer to Naboo as the flat visibly darkened, clouds gathered, and lightning flashed outside…

"Is that all you can say?" Vince screamed suddenly.

Everyone jumped. Vince never shouted. The last time he'd really shouted had been about four years ago, while they were still at the zoo, when Howard told him Topshop was closing down. It was a joke. It was April Fool's Day. Howard thought it was witty and amusing. But Vince didn't find out that it was a joke until two days later, when any amusement had long since been lost, because he was so distraught that he locked himself in with the llamas and wouldn't see anyone except them for two days.

But now, he was on his feet – and blazing. "Is that all you can say, you midget? There's something really wrong here? Like you think we don't all know? Are you gonna do anythin' about it? Or are you just gonna sit there like a pair of blue curtains? We might all be gonna disappear and I'm losing my hair but oh no, Naboo has to stay mysterious and monotone and mope around like a rejected member of the Seven Dwarves!"

"Vince!" Howard said, shocked.

"And you're going to march round the flat with your stoopid moustache, like a clothes brush on legs, tellin' everyone how you're a Man of Action, but not actually doing anything!" Vince shrieked. "I'm losin' my hair and you're doing _nothing_!" And with that, he fled. They heard the door of his room slam a few moments later.

"Naboo…" Howard started, but Naboo was staring straight ahead at the television screen. And Howard realised he wasn't doing anything because he couldn't. He didn't know what to do.

-----

Vince had stormed into his bedroom and kicked his bed a few times. Then he fell on it, wanting to cry, but of course no tears came. They never do when you actually have the opportunity to sob your heart out. So he just lay there, muttering insults about the other three people in the flat. But it was tiring. That and the stress of losing his hair. After about half an hour, he fell asleep…

A couple of hours later, Vince Noir was awoken by a voice shouting.

"Fuck, I can't deal with this shit any more!"

Vince jerked upright. Who was that? He sat on his bed, ears straining, heart pounding with the shock of waking up so suddenly.

Then came another voice: "You can't deal with this shit? _You_ can't deal with this shit? This wasn't my idea!"

That sounded like…

"Howard?" Vince called softly.

It certainly sounded like Howard. But who was he talking to? The other person didn't sound like Bollo or Naboo.

Vince hurried to his bedroom door and opened it.

Silence.

"Howard?"

Then, the first voice was back. "So it's all my fault, is that it? Why d'you think I started this? D'you think I did it on a whim? D'you think I just felt like it? Wanted to see what would happen? Of course, it couldn't possibly be anything to do with you, could it?"

No, it definitely wasn't Bollo or Naboo. Although, now he came to think of it, there was something familiar about that other voice…

Vince waited, holding his breath, willing the people to speak again.

"I don't believe this. _You're_ accusing _me_ of being self-centred? I don't believe I'm hearing this!"

"Well, you better, because that's what I'm doin'!"

Vince suddenly realised that the voices were coming from inside his room.

"Excuse me, but I'm not the one who runs around like an electro prostitute, practically blowing the paparazzi to take my picture, getting smashed on tour, getting involved in all sorts of celebrity rumours and…"

The voices were coming from the wardrobe.

Vince crept over to. He opened the wardrobe cautiously and peered inside.

There was no-one in there. There was nothing at all unusual about it. Just his clothes, all hanging up – or on the floor, if he hadn't bothered to hang them.

But the voices were much louder now. "No, you sit at home every night with a cup of tea!"

And that was when Vince noticed a strange light at the back of his cupboard. A weird, pulsing, humming blue light.

Shaking, he stepped into the wardrobe, and blundered towards it, arms out in front of him because it was dark. He felt his clothes. The light got closer. Hangers rattled as he brushed them. He went on walking – and suddenly his hands touched wood. The back of the wardrobe? He groped around. No. A door.

He couldn't hear the voices any more. But, if he strained his ears, he thought he could hear muffled sounds coming from downstairs – muffled sounds like two people arguing.

Vince pushed hard on the doors and they swung open. He staggered out into a bedroom. But it was a bedroom he'd never seen before in his life.

Where was he? What was going on? He'd walked through his own wardrobe into someone else's bedroom. This beat those books Howard once tried to read to him about the lion and the witch and all that.

It was a pretty genius bedroom, actually. Colourful. There was a dressing table covered in make-up and hair products, and a very sturdy looking pair of straightners. Vince hurried to the mirror to check the trip hadn't harmed him. He grimaced when he saw the hat he was wearing and remembered his own hair. Maybe there was something here that could help…

But then: "You're like a little hooker! Letting everyone pay to have a piece of you! You make me sick!"

"And you make me sick, you great Northern waste of space!"

"There's no point arguing about this any more, is there?" snarled the man with the deeper voice. "We're doing it, aren't we? We're ending it."

There was a tiny silence. For a moment it almost seemed that the higher-voiced man was having second thoughts about whatever it was. But then he said, "Yeah. We're doin' it."

"We're killing them," hissed the man with the deeper voice.

"They're not alive, you fuckin' ponce!"

"It felt like it sometimes. So we're killing them off, then? Howard and Vince."

Vince gasped. He'd said their names! And he'd said – he'd said – _killing them? _He staggered, clutching the dressing table.

Make-up and hair products rattled violently, falling over onto each other, tumbling onto the floor.

"What was that?" came the voice of the higher-voiced man, the "electro prostitute".

"Maybe it was one of your groupies," sneered the "great Northern waste of space".

"Shut it. Hello? Is someone up there?"

Vince heard footsteps. Panicked, he turned tail and fled into the wardrobe – closing the door just as a man about Vince's age, with dyed black hair styled elegantly and very tight red jeans, pushed the door of the bedroom open.

"Hello?"

No answer. Everything was still. There was nobody there.

"Well?" called his friend, who was concerned in spite of himself.

"Nothin'." Even though he was sure he hadn't left his make-up in such a state that morning…

* * *

**Reviews? Like it? Hate it? Want me to continue it? Want me to spend the rest of my life in a cave? Tell me!**

**Also, I'm stopping "Bliss Of Another Kind", in case you're worried. I'll just update both simultaneously.**

**violence x**


	2. I got your straightners!

**Well, I got some nice reviews, and I'm having fun writing this, so, why not continue?**

**Again: I am NOT stopping the other one.**

**Disclaimer: none of it's mine. Not in the Boosh world. Or the real world. Neither.**

* * *

**Chapter Two**

**_"I'm Vince Noir, rock and roll star... And I got your straightners!"_**

Vince burst back out of the wardrobe, crashing into his bedroom, almost going nose-to-floor. He had run frantically back through all the clothes, through the weird humming light, as far away from those two men as he could.

_We're killing them off, then? Howard and Vince. Howard and Vince… Howard and Vince… Howard and Vince…_

His hat had fallen off, but he was in such a panic that he even forgot that people might see he was losing his hair. He slammed the doors of his wardrobe shut, grabbed one of his feather boas, and tied the handles together, to stop anyone getting out if they came through to his room the way he had. He got another boa and wrapped that round too. Another, another, until all the boas were wrapped round the door handles. But Vince still didn't feel safe.

He rushed out of his room. He didn't want to be in there and be reminded of what he'd heard. _We're killing them off, then? Howard and Vince._

It was dark in the flat. Vince slammed the door of his bedroom and then sprinted to Howard's. He was running faster than he ever had before. He burst into Howard's room. "HOWARD! Howard Howard Howard Howard Howard HOWARD!" He threw himself on Howard's bed and hit the older man in the face with a pillow.

Howard had been dreaming. He was a world famous jazz musician and all round superhero – after all, he _was_ a Man of Action – playing shows all over the world at sold-out arenas, and saving the world in between. Everywhere he went, everyone recognised Howard Moon, Living Legend, especially women, beautiful, intellectual women who simply couldn't wait to… sit on him and beat his head…

Wait – _what?_

Howard woke up suddenly and horribly. Someone was straddling him, thumping him with something…

"HOWARD!"

"Vince!" This was not the kind of situation Howard wanted to be in with Vince. He leapt up from under the covers, and Vince lost his balance and crashed onto the floor with a yelp.

"Vince, what are you doing? It's –" Howard checked his clock "– Three thirty in the morning! Three thirty in the morning! What do you think you're playing at?"

"They're trying to kill us!" Vince wailed from the floor.

"W-what?"

"They're trying to kill us, Howard!" Vince cried, struggling up and clutching at the neckline of Howard's pyjamas.

"Vince, have you been dreaming?"

"No! It's real, honest! I heard them!" Vince's voice was rapidly increasing in pitch, in danger of getting so high only dogs could hear it. "They're trying to kill us!"

"Who?" Howard shouted.

"The people in my wardrobe?"

"The people – what? – the people in your wardrobe? Vince, there are no people in your wardrobe!"

"But there are!" Vince wailed, and Howard could feel he was shaking, possibly even harder than when his hair had fallen out. He threw himself at Howard and clasped him round the chest, nearly knocking his breath out. "They're trying to kill us!"

"What's going on?" asked a voice from the door. Howard, with Vince still clamped round him, blinked at the door, startled. Naboo had appeared, shirtless, pulling on his turban to keep his shaman edge. "Oh!" he said, seeing Vince clasping Howard, half in the bed with him. "Sorry!"

"No!" Howard said desperately, pushing Vince away. "It's not that!"

"What is it then?" asked Naboo.

"Naboo!" Vince cried, spotting the shaman. "There's people tryin' to kill us! I heard them! In my wardrobe!"

"In your wardrobe?" Naboo repeated.

"That's what I said!" Howard supplied helpfully.

"Yeah! In me wardrobe! They're saying, we're killin' 'em off, Howard and Vince! That's what they said!" Vince couldn't clutch Naboo's collar because he didn't have one, so he contented himself with waving his arms around.

"People, in your wardrobe, saying they're going to kill you?" Naboo repeated.

"Yeah!"

"Mad, isn't it?" said Howard.

"Shut up, Howard." Naboo steered Vince to the end of Howard's bed. "Sit down, Vince."

Vince sat. Naboo joined him.

"Hey! I need to sleep! I'm a Man of Action! I can't get too tired!" Howard objected.

"I said shut up!" Naboo snapped. He turned back to Vince. "Right. Vince. Calm down."

Vince nodded, and took a few shuddering breaths.

"Now," said Naboo, patting Vince's back. "Tell me what happened."

Vince did – in a very shaking, frightened voice. Naboo kept patting his back soothingly, but it didn't seem to help much.

"Are you sure about this, Vince?" Howard asked, when the story was told.

"Yeah, Howard. Honest. I wasn't dreaming, I swear."

"No, no," said Naboo gently. "It's okay, Vince. You said you tied up the door of the wardrobe?"

"Yeah…"

"Okay, look. Here's what we're going to do. I'll go and examine the wardrobe –"

"But there's homicidal freaks in there!"

"Don't worry about me, I'm a shaman. I'm an expert in self-defence."

"Really?"

Naboo gave Vince a look, and Vince nodded meekly.

"You should get some sleep."

"But –!"

"Vince," said Naboo, "I won't let them out. You can sleep in Bollo's room if you want. He'll protect you."

Vince snuffled, and Howard couldn't help feeling slightly put out that Bollo was considered better protection against murderous wardrobe-people than he was. But Vince eventually nodded and mumbled, and he did look sleepy, which confirmed to Howard that all of this was just a bad dream.

Naboo took Vince off to Bollo's room, and then came back. He put his head round Howard's door. "Howard."

"You going to bed?"

"No, I'm gonna look at the wardrobe. I said."

"You don't really believe him, do you, Naboo?"

Naboo looked at Howard with his bored eyes. "Howard, you know weird things are happening. Normally I wouldn't but this might have something to do with it." He sighed. "Now, listen. Just in case – if I'm not here in the morning, you're to get Vince and Bollo out of the flat and go to the Board of Shamen. Bollo knows the way. You're to tell them what's happened. They'll know what to do. You'll be safe there."

Howard nodded importantly. Of course, he would be the only person to do that.

"Don't worry, Naboo. I'm Howard Moon."

"I know. That's why I already told Bollo to remind you to do it." And, with that, the shaman left the room.

-----

_Next morning._

Naboo was still there the next morning, but the atmosphere in the flat was tense. Vince was sitting on the sofa, looking tired and pale. Bollo confided in a whisper – as much of a whisper as a gorilla could manage – that he hadn't slept much. Naboo seemed tired too.

Howard decided it was time the two most intelligent people in the group had a little chat. He followed Naboo into the kitchen.

"Did you find anything last night?"

Naboo shook his head, spooning coffee and stifling a yawn. His turban wasn't completely straight.

"I told you," said Howard, joining him.

"Shh." Naboo shook his head, and motioned for Howard to shut the door.

"I didn't find anything in particular," he said, when Howard had done so, "But it feels weird. It feels like the table. Like it's breaking. I don't know what it is, Howard. It's like – it's like everything's splitting. I can feel it now. Things are tearing to pieces."

Howard shuddered. "What can we do?"

"I don't know," said Naboo. Even he sounded almost scared.

-----

_Two days later._

"I've got to go!" Naboo was shouting.

"No!" Vince wailed, hanging round his waist. "You can't leave us! There's people in my wardrobe!"

"Bollo!" Naboo screamed, struggling with Vince. "Get the carpet!"

"Okay," grunted the gorilla.

"You can't leave! You can't! We need you!" Vince shrieked.

"Howard, get 'im off!" Naboo yelled at the jazz maverick.

Howard rushed to put his considerable skills to good use – but Vince kicked him in the shins and he staggered backwards, gasping. He thought that was very unfair. Using shins against him like that.

"Naboo, don't go!" Vince wailed. "We need you in case those people come out and try to kill us!"

"I have to go, you know that!" Naboo panted, trying to prise Vince off. "Saboo and Tony Harrison have disappeared! The Board of Shamen's called an emergency meeting! I have to be there!"

"There are other shamen!" Vince cried. "You have to be _here_!"

"Carpet ready," said Bollo, re-appearing.

"Yeah, well, I'm a bit busy at the moment," Naboo muttered. "Howard!"

Howard stood back up. "Come on, little man," he said, going to grab hold of Vince – who lashed out madly. He's really scared, Howard thought. "I'll be here," he told Vince.

"I know! It doesn't help! I want Naboo!"

Howard wasn't going to take insults like that, no sir. He dragged Vince off Naboo, hauled him, kicking and screaming, onto the sofa, and sat on him.

"Right," said Naboo, slightly breathlessly, straightening his robes. "You two will be okay, yeah?"

"Yeah," said Howard, attempting to balance on a writhing Vince. "Fine."

"Call me if you need me," said Naboo – which was unusual, and made Howard stop for a second. Naboo must think there was something _really_ bad going on here.

"Okay," said Howard. Naboo nodded. "Bye then," he said, and hurried out. A few seconds later, Howard saw him and Bollo swoop past on their carpet. At least that was still working.

Vince's strength came back at that. "No!" he screeched, and rolled off the sofa, taking Howard with him. "Naboo! Come back!"

"Vince!" Howard seized his friend's wrists and tried to subdue him, but Vince struggled madly.

"Vince, please! Calm down!"

"No! Naboo! There's people in my wardrobe!"

Howard had never seen Vince like this. True, he was always a bit crazy, but that was crazy in a happy, ditzy way. Now he seemed almost mad with fear.

"Vince, please!" Howard managed to stop Vince lashing out by lying on top of him, weighing him down. Vince could still talk though, and he did. Or rather screamed. "NABOO!"

"Vince! There – is – no – one – in – your – wardrobe!" Howard shouted, gasping from the effort of struggling with Vince so much.

"But there is! I heard them! Howard!" Vince looked into Howard's eyes, his own eyes wild with panic. "They're gonna kill us!"

"Vince… there's no-one there. What am I going to have to say to convince you?"

"There's nothing you can say, they're in there!"

"Look, Vince," said Howard, trying to keep his voice level and calm. "Why don't we go into your room, and have a look in the wardrobe."

"No!" Vince said, shaking his head.

"No, come on, Vince," said Howard. "I'm going to prove to you that there is no-one in the wardrobe!"

"No, Howard!" Vince whimpered – but Howard stood up anyway. Vince got dragged up too.

"Come on!" Howard said, authoritatively, and began marching to Vince's room. Or, marching as best he could with Vince hanging round him like a monkey.

"Howard, don't!" Vince whimpered. "What if they've got through already? What if they're in my room, waiting to be let out?"

"Don't worry, Vince. They'll be no match for Howard Moon. I'll be coming at them like a jazz improvisation!"

By this time they had reached the bedroom. Howard grasped the handle of the door and, with some effort, because Vince was trying to hold his arm, got it open.

The room looked just the same as it always did.

Except that the door of the wardrobe was tied up with feather boas.

Vince breathed a sigh of relief, and released his grip on Howard a little.

"See?" said Howard – although he couldn't help feeling slightly disappointed that Vince wasn't going to learn what it meant to see someone coming at someone else like a jazz improvisation. "I told you."

Vince didn't look happy. "They're in the wardrobe, Howard," he said. "I tied it up, see?"

"Well, we'll untie it, and see that there's no axe murderer in there," said Howard. And he went to the wardrobe and began untying the boas.

Vince didn't try to stop him. Howard thought he'd seen sense – until he turned round and realised that all Vince had seen was himself in the mirror. He was busily checking his reflection. "My hair still looks all right," he said, relieved.

"Vince," Howard said.

Vince turned – and leapt away from the now-open wardrobe. "Argh! No! Howard! Shut it before they get out!"

"There's no-one coming out, Vince. Look!"

"They're in there!" Vince whimpered, cowering. "They are! I heard 'em! Yellin' in their evil voices, I heard 'em!"

Howard sighed. Obviously, Vince was asking for real proof. "Look," he said. "I am going to walk into this wardrobe, and I am not going to get to any magical land – all I'm going to get to is the back of your wardrobe. Okay?"

Vince shook his head.

"Well, it's too late for that. I'm going in." Howard turned and squared up to the wardrobe.

After a second, Vince rushed over and took his arm.

"What?" Howard asked.

"You might need me," Vince said.

Howard couldn't help being a little touched by this – and also, well, it couldn't hurt to have a right-hand man, could it? Just in case…

The jazz maverick and the mod squared their shoulders, and then marched into the wardrobe.

-----

"I told you!"

Howard couldn't believe it. He simply couldn't believe it.

They had walked through the wardrobe, Vince clutching his arm – and with every step, Howard had been sure they'd meet the back of the wardrobe. "Almost there," he'd said. "A few more steps. Wow, it's big in here, isn't it? We got a bargain for this, it's huge. Ah, here we are, the back… no, wait… it's a door…"

And they'd fallen through into the kind of room he could imagine Vince living in when he was a bit older. Very bright. Clothes hanging over chairs that looked like the kind of thing Vince would wear. Lots of make-up. Lots of hair stuff. A huge mirror. Slightly more sophisticated than Howard's giddy friend, but other than that, it was almost creepy.

"I don't believe it," Howard said. He shook his head. "I don't."

"I told you," said Vince.

"All right, little man, very funny. How did you do it?"

"I didn't."

Howard looked at Vince's face. He looked scared. Howard realised he wasn't making it up. He really didn't know what was going on, any more than Howard did.

"This is impossible, little man. You do know that, don't you?"

"Yeah, but it's happenin', isn't it?"

"Yeah." Howard looked around. "So… where are these two homicidal murderers then?"

"Isn't 'homicidal murderer' kind of a stupid thing to say?"

Howard glared. "Where are they?"

Vince hesitated. "I dunno. They must be out… I can't hear 'em."

Howard nodded slowly. He knew they should go back through the wardrobe, barricade the door, and call Naboo, but somehow – the urge to explore… a new world. He'd discovered a parallel universe. If this wasn't a job for a Man of Action, he didn't know what was. He'd be famous. People would recognise him wherever he went, Howard Moon…

"Let's have a look around."

Vince looked thoroughly frightened, but he seemed to trust Howard. He nodded.

Howard crept out of the bedroom, Vince following. They were on a landing almost as colourful as the bedroom.

"D'you think this guy wears sunglasses the whole time?" Howard hissed, as they went down the stairs.

"I think it's cool," Vince said, behind him. "If he wasn't a murderer, of course."

On tip-toe, they slipped from room to room, taking everything in. Apart from some rather weird colour combinations ("But Howard," said Vince, "Your idea of a colour combination is porridge twinned with porridge!") it seemed to be a perfectly normal house. Howard was a bit disappointed, if anything. Was the only new thing about this parallel universe that everyone seemed to like colours like Vince? Maybe that was why it was in Vince's wardrobe and not his.

Why wasn't it in his wardrobe? He was Howard Moon. Didn't he deserve this? Wasn't he the intrepid explorer who had coaxed Vince to explore?

They were in the living room. Howard Moon, Detective Extraordinaire, picked up a newspaper that was tossed on the coffee table to look at the date. It was the same as the one they'd left. He'd hoped it might be a bit more exciting.

He scanned the headlines.

"MPs bugged!" screamed the bold text.

And, underneath, "Super Tuesday!"

And a large picture of a very thin blonde woman, pouting at the camera, with the caption: "Paris at film premiere!"

Howard was confused. Paris? What did that picture have to do with Paris? And what was so super about Tuesday?

He looked up to ask Vince what he thought about it – and found the younger man straightening his hair, using the blank TV as a mirror.

"Vince! What are you doing?"

"Me hair. I thought it needed it."

"You – you brought your straightners?"

"Nah. Took them out the room upstairs. They're pretty good but, mine are –" Vince was suddenly cut off by a door banging.

"Oh God!" Howard hissed. "Quick, hide!"

They both dived behind the sofa, Vince just managing not to fall on the straightners.

Footsteps came up the hallway.

"It's one of the murderers!" Vince breathed.

"Shh!"

They crouched there, close together, as the person came walking closer, closer, closer…

The footsteps went past the living room, and then – up the stairs.

"Oh no," Howard muttered.

The footsteps were creaking around.

"He's in the bedroom!" Howard said.

"How d'you know?"

"This room's under the bedroom. I remember where the bedroom is…"

"What we gonna do, Howard?"

Howard looked at Vince, who looked scared again. Howard understood how he felt. They couldn't get back through the wardrobe if the person who lived here was in there. Especially if they were a murderer hell-bent on killing both of them.

"I –"

"We can't get back," Vince whimpered. "And we can't stay here! What if he comes in the living room? He'll find us!"

"We'll… we'll go outside," Howard decided. "We'll hide nearby and wait for him to leave. He'll have to go out sometime. Then we'll sneak back in."

"What if he doesn't?"

"Shh!"

Howard stood up. He hurried to the door of the living room and looked out. Clear. He beckoned to Vince, who scrambled up and hurried, carefully, so as not to make any noise, over to join him.

"Come on, this way. This is the way he came," Howard muttered. He walked quickly out of the living room. Vince followed – and there was a sudden crash. A smashing sound. A thump.

Howard kept his eyes closed until the noise had subsided. Then he turned round.

Vince was looking at the straightners in his hand. "Oh, no! I forgot to unplug –"

"Hello?" A voice shouted from upstairs. "Who's down there?"

"Oh, shit!" Vince squeaked.

"What did you do?" Howard rushed back to Vince. He dared a look into the room. The straightners' plug had got ripped out of the wall and dragged over the coffee table, knocking it over. "Vince!"

"Sorry!"

"Hello?"

"Run! Run!" Howard seized Vince's arm and pulled him away from the living room.

Footsteps echoed above them.

"Where's the door?" Howard panicked, blundering into a cupboard instead of a way out. Vince staggered as Howard rushed round and round.

"Look, I've got a phone! I'll call the police!"

"He's gonna kill us, Howard!" Vince squeaked. "He's gonna realise it's us and kill us!"

"Where's the door?" Howard pulled open yet another door and found a bathroom. "Where do we go?"

"Through here." Vince suddenly shoved Howard into the bathroom and slammed the door behind them.

"Great! Now where? We're trapped!"

"Out the window," Vince said, locking the door.

There was a window, just about big enough for a person to get through.

"Vince! You're a –"

"Just open it, Howard!"

"Oh. Yes." Howard rushed to the window and began trying to heave it open. Vince was watching the door nervously.

"It won't open!" Howard groaned, struggling with the window.

Vince hurried to help him. Together, they heaved at the window frame. Gradually, it began to unstick…

"Done it!" Howard shouted, triumphantly.

"Look, who is this?" The voice was much nearer now.

"Vince, come on!" Howard said.

But Vince, now they had a good escape route, seemed to want to have a bit of fun. "You wanna know who I am?" he yelled, ignoring Howard signalling "shut up" with his hand. "I'm Vince Noir, rock and roll star!"

There was silence.

"Vince!" Howard hissed. "He'll kill us!"

"Yeah!" Vince yelled. "And I got your straightners! So don't try anything, or I'll straighten your nose off, and Howard here will come at you like some rubbish jazz music!" And, with that, Vince turned, wriggled through the window with enormous ease, and landed on the pavement outside. "Come on, Howard!"

Howard launched himself through the window. It was only because he was in a panic that he didn't go at the right angle, and Vince had to pull him through from the other side.

"Let's go!" Vince said. "He'll be looking for us!" He grabbed Howard's arm and dragged him off down the road, away from the colourful house.

* * *

**Thanks for reading.**

**violence x**


	3. Parallel Topshop

**Thank you all loads for your very kind reviews! (Especially Beechwood0708, who called me "magician of the written word"... not that I think I deserve it in any way... but thank you!)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Boosh stuff. I do, however, own the tube station man, the almost-fainting girl, and the two women on the stairs. (By the way, in case anyone's wondering, they are just meant to be random women... not any two particular women we all know...)**

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**Chapter Three**

**_"It's Parallel Topshop"_**

"Where are we going?" Howard panted. Suddenly he didn't feel much like exploring a parallel universe. This had gone from exciting to terrifying very fast – too fast – and now he just wanted to go home.

But they couldn't go home. They had run down the street, then another street, then another street, turning corners all the time, possibly with a killer behind them. But now, when Howard glanced behind them, the street was deserted, except for an old lady pushing a shopping trolley slowly.

"Vince! I think we lost him!"

Vince stopped, and immediately staggered forwards, clutching a nearby garden wall for support. His other hand clasped his side. "I'm never – doin' that – again!"

"We wouldn't have had to do it if you hadn't told him who we were!"

"It was – just a joke –" Vince rasped.

"Ha, ha," said Howard dryly.

True, the man in the house hadn't sounded especially dangerous. Actually, he'd sounded about as dangerous as Vince, but, Vince had said he'd heard him plotting to kill them with some other guy – and now Vince had been right about the parallel universe in the wardrobe, Howard felt he should believe this too. Maybe the other guy was bigger: Howard imagined a lumbering, sadistic torturer acting on the orders of a bitter dwarf.

He looked around. They were in a dull street, very grey and brown, with water stains on the buildings and puddles in the roads. It had clearly been raining. It didn't look that different from home, really – it was just all much more boring. Howard didn't think he'd ever get used to this: houses were like explosions of colour, streets were all washed out.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"Dunno," Vince said, finally managing to stand up.

"And where are we going to go?"

"Well, we can't go back to that house, not until Mr Psycho Killer Man leaves – so let's go on exploring!"

"Go on exploring?" Howard gasped. "What do you mean, go on exploring?"

"You said that's what we were doin' before," Vince said.

Howard bit his lip and wondered how to explain to Vince that exploring had somehow lost its appeal.

"I think we should go on exploring – you know, it's like research," said Vince. His cheeky grin was playing around his mouth. After previously being so scared, he now seemed to have forgotten that they were in a very serious situation.

"No, Vince," said Howard. "We should stay here. We don't want to get lost."

"But – but – I wanna explore! I wonder if they got Topshop here?"

"Lord, I hope not. No, we're staying here."

"Oh, come on, Howard!"

"No!"

"Fine, I'll go on my own," Vince said, and skipped off into the road.

A huge car roared, a horn blared.

"Vince!" Howard yelled, rushing forwards, as Vince yelped and jumped backwards.

"Oi, love, watch it!" a man bellowed out of the van window – and swerved off round the corner in a cloud of exhaust fumes.

For a few moments, the two friends stood in silence.

Then: "What was that?" Vince asked weakly.

"It was a car, Vince."

"I never seen a car like that before, Howard."

"Me neither, Vince."

Vince ran his hand carefully over his hair, checking it hadn't been messed up by his traumatic experience. "Howard…"

Howard groaned inwardly.

He knew Vince still wanted to explore. He wasn't the type to be deterred for long. But after that, it had become obvious that Vince wouldn't cope on his own here.

"Vince, I really think…"

"But we can't go back there, Howard. And he might be in there ages, mightn't he? So what are we gonna do?"

Howard struggled. "Vince…"

"Oh, _please_, Howard! We'll just look round a little bit! Come on! We're in a parallel universe or sumfin, we can't not look round!" He looked sideways at Howard. "And anyway, suppose it's dangerous? Won't we all need Howard Moon to come at them like whatever it was?"

Howard nodded importantly – and then realised Vince had got him. The mod was grinning cheekily.

"If this goes wrong –"

"It won't! C'mon!" Vince grabbed Howard's arm and pulled him off down the street.

-----

"Look! A station!" Vince said happily.

"And where are we going to go?" Howard asked, as Vince dragged him down the escalator. He looked around at the torn adverts on the walls, the dirty floor. Howard had never been anywhere like this before. It was filthy – and he didn't like the look of that group of boys over there in strange grey baggy jumpers, with hoods up, who were eyeing them. He was becoming more and more sure that this wasn't a good parallel universe.

Vince was looking at the train map. "Howard!" he exclaimed.

"What?" Howard muttered, desperate not to draw attention to them. A man in the ticket office was eyeing them right that minute.

"We're in London!"

"What?"

"We're in London!" Vince repeated.

A woman with a push chair overheard, and gave Vince a rather puzzled backward glance, evidently wondering how anyone could be in London and not realise.

"Shh! You're making a scene!" Howard edged closer. "We can't be in London!"

"But look!" Vince said, holding up the copy of the tube map he'd been looking at. "Look at all the places! It's all London, Howard."

Howard was shaking his head. "I don't understand this," he said.

"Oh, Howard, they must have Topshop! Let's go see what it's like here!" Vince squealed, bouncing up and down excitedly.

Howard gave in.

He knew there was no putting Vince off.

"All right," he sighed. "We'll need train tickets, then…" He glanced at the ticket office. The man was still watching them. "Um…"

"There's a machine," said Vince, tugging his sleeve.

"Ah!" Howard's expression cleared. He wouldn't have to confront that man, who was staring in an overly-familiar way, Howard thought. When he caught the man's eye, the man smiled. Howard's skin prickled. "Come on, then," he said briskly, and marched over to the ticket machine, trying to look like he knew what he was doing. He fished for money. "How much?"

Vince was hitting the screen of the machine. "This is genius!" he said. "We should get these back home!" He turned to Howard, grinning. "Six."

"Right." Howard took a coin and fitted it into the slot – only to have it clatter back down and out.

Howard picked the coin up and tried it again. The same thing happened.

"Oh God, I think it's broken," Howard muttered.

"There's no sign," Vince said. "Lemme try."

He took another coin from Howard and put it in the machine. Again, the machine spat it back out.

"Stupid thing!" Vince kicked the machine.

"Is everything all right?"

Oh God. A man in a uniform was coming over.

"We're terribly sorry," Howard cried, desperate not to offend anyone in this frightening new world, "But…

"Your machine doesn't work," Vince piped up.

Howard groaned softly.

"What do you mean, it doesn't work?" asked the man in uniform.

"We're puttin' money in and it comes back out; look!" Vince demonstrated. Once again, the coin fell to the bottom.

The man in uniform frowned. He reached into the machine and fished out Vince's coin. He looked at it – and his frown deepened. "This is a Euro," he said.

Howard and Vince exchanged a look.

"The machine doesn't accept Euros," the man said, giving them both very weird looks.

"What does it accept, then?" Vince asked, eyebrows raised, plainly thinking, "This is freakish…"

"Pounds…" The man in uniform now wore a similar expression to Vince. "Are you – are you tourists?"

"Yeah, that's it!" Howard, who had been desperately searching for a way out of this predicament, finally found it. "We're tourists. We're from, um…"

"Vince Land," Vince said helpfully.

"No!" Howard looked quickly at the man in uniform and forced a laugh. "No, he's just kidding. He likes a laugh, don't you, little man?" He went to ruffle Vince's hair but Vince leapt away. "No, you don't!"

Howard laughed again – an even falser laugh than before. "No, we're from –"

"America," said Vince.

The man in uniform was looking from Howard to Vince with very wide, confused eyes.

"Yeah!" Howard said. "America. We used to live here but then we moved out there – they must have given us the wrong money at the airport! I don't believe it!"

"No!" Vince said, cottoning on. "Airports! I mean, they're so useless… I think."

"Do you want somewhere you can change money?" asked the man in uniform.

"Um…"

"Uh…"

"Or if you've got a credit card, you can use that."

Howard felt in his pocket. It was worth a try.

"Oh, great," he said. "We'll use that then. Thanks."

"Any time," muttered the man, and went off, shaking his head.

Howard breathed out very hard.

"Howard, this is weird," Vince said. "What kind of money do they use?"

"It's parallel universe money, Vince," Howard said knowingly, keying in what tickets they wanted again (the machine had cancelled the order). He got his card and put it firmly into the machine. They both held their breath – and then the screen flashed. "Please Enter Your Pin."

"It worked!" Vince said happily.

"Good, so we're not penniless," Howard said, paying. "That's something."

Vince was grinning.

"Vince, that does not mean I'm paying for you to buy a hundred outfits in Topshop."

Vince laughed. "It's Parallel Topshop, Howard! I gotta have something!"

"No!"

And they went through the ticket barriers, still squabbling.

-----

"I don't like this!" Vince wailed.

They were struggling through crowds of people: shouting men, grumbling women, screaming children, laughing groups of friends, drunk football fans, young couples walking arm in arm, business men and women attempting to retain their office dignity in the crush out of the station.

"Just hold onto me, little man," Howard said, fighting not to get pushed backwards by a gang of teenage girls.

Vince clutched Howard's arm. "Why are there so many people?" he whimpered. "I thought we were going to Topshop!"

"We are, if we can get out of here!" Howard said, thinking that even Topshop was preferable to this. This was like being in one of those horrible clubs Vince liked going to, only a million times worse, because at least in those clubs everyone was smiling. Here, everyone looked suicidal.

Probably because they're all so confused with their ridiculous money, he thought.

"Stairs!" Vince cried, pointing. "Let's go up the stairs!"

They forced their way through the crowd – Vince complaining every two seconds, "That man stood on my toe!" "That woman banged her bag on my jacket!" – towards the stairs.

"This is ridiculous," Howard gasped. "There must be a better way to do things!"

"When you invent it, please let me know," Vince said, leaning against Howard away from two very fat men sharing a can of lager.

Then his head suddenly jerked.

"What?" Howard asked.

"Look, Howard! Girls!"

Two young women in tight jeans were walking down the stairs towards them, chatting and laughing. Vince was grinning, flicking back his hair, widening his eyes. He was all prepared for this, even in a parallel world.

Howard was all prepared too. He knew exactly what would happen in this situation. Two men. Two women. Both women would want to be the one who got with Vince.

All the same, he was Howard Moon. He had to make an effort.

He drew himself up, and smiled as the girls came towards them. "Ladies," he said, as they passed.

The girls stopped, surprised. They looked up at Howard – and their mouths fell open. One of them made a faint gasping sound. Then they both started giggling furiously, clutched each other, and rushed off, squealing, and looking back excitedly.

There was a silence between Howard and Vince.

"What just happened?" Vince said eventually. He was looking extremely put out at being ignored – and also stunned that Howard Moon had actually managed to set two women swooning.

Howard was just as shocked at the effect he'd had on the girls, if he was honest. But he wasn't going to let Vince see that. "They just encountered Howard Moon," he said loftily.

"Get out," Vince said, visibly irritated that he hadn't got any attention. "Girls never like you."

"Parallel Universe girls have good taste, Vince," Howard said smugly. "They're intellectuals. They're attracted to my intelligent good looks."

"Yeah, right."

"You, sir, just witnessed the full powers of Howard Moon. You're blown away. You can't hope to compete."

"Shut up," Vince grumbled. "Let's go."

Howard smirked to himself. It certainly wasn't every day that he got to upstage Vince with women.

But Vince being ignored didn't last long. As they finally came out of the station, squinting in the light, another girl, standing nearby, looked at Vince and her mouth dropped open.

Vince nodded triumphantly at Howard, and flashed the girl a smile. For a moment, Howard thought she was going to faint.

But Vince didn't even seem to notice. "Topshop!" he cried, rushing towards it – or rushing as much as he could, with so many people around. But, finally, they got to the shop.

"Wow!" Vince said happily.

"It looks – it looks just the same as at home."

"I know. Topshop's obviously got a universal appeal." Vince was grinning – but then he frowned at a giant picture of a blonde women, modelling shorts and a waistcoat. "Who's she?"

Howard didn't know. He wondered, rather distractedly, if she was an intellectual too.

* * *

**Come on, come on! Review review review! No need to be shy, I'm not really as weird as all that! And I like to know what people think! (Even if you think it's so bad I should be jailed for life, I want to know! Honestly!! Lots of exclamation marks!!)**

**Thanks for reading, anyway.**

**violence x**


	4. Seeing Double

**Righty-ho! So sorry it's been so long! I have been incredibly busy and incredibly tired. But I'm back with quite a long chapter for you all, so yay! I'm on half term from school now so I should be able to update much more regularly (when I'm "revising" for my A-level mocks... yeah).**

**Notes/Disclaimers:  
Boosh is owned by Julian Barratt and Noel Fielding.  
"Umbrella" is by Rihanna.  
****Alexandra the bar girl is mine (and yes, she is coming back into it later, and yes, she might get to meet Naboo...)  
The various people in Topshop are also mine. Topshop, however, is not - and if you've ever been to the Oxford Street one on a busy Saturday you'll know just how Howard feels.  
Amy Winehouse - well, I don't know who owns her, but I just thought I'd have a guest appearance. Don't sue me, what happens to her in the bar is all my imagination.  
Kate Moss - I don't know who owns her either. She's not in it but as I mention her clothes, I thought I'd better disclaim.  
The Hawley Arms is also a real place in Camden (or it was before the fire yesterday, whether it's still there now I don't know) and I don't own that either. It is really a place where celebrities go, apparently. Not that I've ever been there but I've read about it. I have no idea what it's like inside. I may have made it sound like a kind of crack den but I didn't mean to. Howard just doesn't like drinking, and as I'm in his head I had to describe it how he sees it.**

**Anyway, after that very long intro, enjoy.**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Four**

**_"I think I'm seein' double"_**

"I don't like her hair," said Vince, looking critically at the picture of the blonde model. "Who does she think she is? Standin' up there like she was David Bowie or sumfin! What's she ever done? Who even is she?"

A group of four or five girls behind them, all wearing the waistcoat and shorts the woman in the photo was wearing, all with blonde hair cut with fringes, all simultaneously fainted at the idea that this man hadn't heard of Kate Moss.

Howard eyed them nervously as two shop assistants rushed over to see what had happened. People seemed to keep almost fainting here. Maybe it was something in the air. He hoped not. He didn't think it would be appropriate for a Man of Action to become suddenly unconscious. Besides, if that happened, who would look after Vince?

And Vince needed a lot of looking after. He hadn't noticed the five girls all lying on the floor, or the two shop assistants attempting to rouse them and arguing about whether to call an ambulance. He was grinning all over his face, even more so than usual. "Come on, Howard! Let's look round! Never mind that silly woman!" And he went skipping off.

Howard attempted to follow, but the shop was incredibly busy, and he kept getting knocked back by other shoppers. He didn't like this at all. People were bellowing across the sales floors, shop assistants were rushing around carrying piles of clothes, and there was music even more appalling than Vince's electro stuff blaring out of speakers: _You can stand under my umb-er-ella, ella, ella, eh, eh, eh…_

Howard kept seeing Vince's dark, layered hair bobbing about just in front of him. He tried to dodge round a stand of very horrible t-shirts with skulls on them and catch up with his friend – but Vince had just noticed the vintage section and gone charging over to the other side of the shop.

Howard groaned and clutched his head. The shop was hot and sweaty and reminded him of the fish tanks in the zoo. This music was giving him a headache. He'd never look at an umbrella in the same way again.

Maybe, he thought, he should wait over here for Vince. Vince would find him. He always did.

And maybe this would give him a chance to think about what they were going to do, he thought with vague desperation, edging away from a little group of teenagers who had come over to look at the t-shirts he was still next to.

But he didn't see what they could do. They couldn't go back to the colourful house until they knew the murderer had left. And he had sounded pretty murderous when he was yelling after them, asking who was in his house. But they couldn't just stay trapped in a parallel world forever. Why hadn't he thought of all this before he suggested they explore? Or before they left the house? Or before he let Vince persuade him to look around, rather than hanging about near the house? Howard wasn't even sure he could remember where the house was now.

Howard suddenly became aware that someone was looking at him. He glanced up sharply, slight panic in his stomach – but it was only one of the kids by the t-shirt stand. He quickly turned away when Howard looked up, blushing a bit. "He noticed!" Howard heard him hiss to his friends.

"Well, let's, like, say hi!" whispered another.

"No, we can't!"

"Are you even sure it's him?"

"It's definitely him; he's got the moustache and everything!"

"We can't say anything! What would we say? Just be like, hey, you don't know us but we watch your TV show and Sophie thinks Noel's really hot…"

"Shut up!" squealed another girl – Sophie, presumably – hitting the girl who had said this. "He'll hear you!"

Howard wondered whether to tell them he had heard, but he didn't really think it would help. They'd obviously mistaken him for a celebrity: a Parallel Universe celebrity –who obviously had enough fashion knowledge to understand the appeal of facial hair – but even so. Much as he knew he was worthy of being noticed in the street, he didn't want to be noticed because he looked like someone else. He wanted to be noticed for being Howard Moon…

He edged away from them, trying to duck round a display of jeans, and found himself confronted with a crooked, cheery grin, long black hair and two large blue eyes. Vince was back. And he was clutching a heap of clothes.

"Hey, Howard!" he cried. "Check out all the stuff I found!" He dumped it all into Howard's arms, nearly knocking him over. "This is awesome! I love it here! Where did you go, by the way? C'mon, let's go get some more stuff! Maybe you could get sumfin? I'll help you choose…"

"No, Vince!" Howard shouted without meaning to, and several people turned round, including the kids by the t-shirt stand, who all gaped. Howard hastily lowered his voice: "Vince, I really don't think this is a good idea."

"Aw, c'mon, Howard!" Vince cried, far too loudly, attracting even more attention.

"Shh!" Howard hissed. He didn't like this at all. People were starting to point.

"Don't be such a spoilsport!" Vince said, apparently not noticing all the attention they were getting – or maybe, thought Howard, with a feeling disturbingly like jealousy, he was just used to getting this much attention. "I wanna try this stuff on!"

"No, Vince, I really think –"

"Look, changing rooms! Howard, bring my stuff, yeah?" And Vince dashed off in his platform boots, almost knocking over another shop assistant. "Sorry, sorry!"

"Oh my God!" squeaked the shop assistant.

"I love your boots!" Vince said, noticing them. "They're genius! Hey, Howard! Come on!" And off he went again.

Howard, knowing he couldn't leave Vince on his own in this place that was becoming more and more alarming by the second, staggered after him with the pile of clothes, trying to ignore the looks he was getting from the shop assistant, the kids still by the t-shirt stand, and pretty much everyone else in the shop.

-----

"How do I look?" Vince came parading out of the changing rooms in a pair of jeans with glitter up the sides, a sparkly top with frilly sleeves, and a hat covered in sequins.

Several men wolf-whistled, and then noticed Vince was also a man and hastily turned away to preserve their masculinity.

Vince grinned and stuck a hand on one hip, posing. "Howard? What ya think?"

Howard, sitting under a stack of clothes because there wasn't enough room for them all and Vince in the changing room at once, glared up at the mod.

"How do I look?" Vince asked again.

Howard was used to thinking Vince's clothes were beyond over the top. Normally he tried to be a little forgiving. After all, Vince was brain-washed by electro music. But he really wasn't in the mood. He was almost being crushed by tops and trousers, he was surrounded by men and women all leering at his friend, and a guy in the corner was taking photos of him on his mobile phone. "You look ridiculous."

Vince's smile vanished instantly, to be replaced by a look that was somewhere between irritation and pity. "I look good," he said, rolling his eyes at Howard.

"You look like a Christmas tree!" Howard said. "We could put you in department stores in December!"

"And what about you?" Vince said. "You and your beige? You look like Santa's sack with a branch of holly under its nose."

"How dare you."

Vince pulled a face and turned to look at himself in the full length mirror.

"You take that back."

"No, I won't," Vince said.

"You take that back!"

"No. It's staying. You're only mad cos you know it's true."

Howard tried to think of something to say – and then noticed something. Everyone in the changing room was watching them. But, if that wasn't embarrassing enough, they weren't just staring, the way people normally do at arguments. They were all laughing, covering their mouths, trying not to make too much noise. But when they saw Howard looking, they all seemed to decide this didn't matter any more, and all started laughing properly. Some of them even applauded.

"Would you mind telling me what's so funny?" Howard bellowed.

There was instant silence. The people seemed to realise that this was a real row, not a joke – which, for some reason, they had obviously thought it was.

Howard glared around the changing room at them. They all looked back at him, wide-eyed.

"Jesus!" said a voice.

Howard turned and saw Vince, staring at him with his blue eyes widened. "Don't yell at people like that!" Vince said. "They're all just havin' fun. It's Topshop! Everyone has fun!"

"For God's sake!" Howard exploded. "Don't you think there's something –?"

"What?"

"Well, don't you think all this is –?"

"_What?_"

Everyone was still watching. Howard didn't want to come out with it here. "We're leaving," he said.

"But I –"

"Just come out here." Howard seized Vince's arm and pulled him out of the changing room and round the corner. "Look," he said, shoving Vince against the wall harder than he'd meant to, "Don't you think this is all a bit weird?"

"Christ, Howard, calm down! What's wrong with you?" Vince said, pushing him away.

"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with me? We've had people staring at us ever since we came in here! People whispering about us! People pointing!"

"People always do that to me, Howard," Vince said.

"But what about me?" Howard didn't like to say it but it was the only way to make Vince understand. "There was a man in there taking photos of me on his mobile phone!"

Vince stared. "Okay," he said, "That is kinda freaky…"

"Exactly!"

"Yeah, I mean… why you?"

Howard chose to ignore this. "Why are they all so interested in us? I had teenagers giggling over me! That shop assistant practically had a heart attack when you knocked her over! It's not like thatat home, Vince, even with you! Don't you see there's something really weird going on?"

"I see that you've got sumfin far up your arse," Vince said. "What's wrong with you? It's great here! Okay, people might be lookin' at us, but you're always sayin' women love you and everyone's interested in you. You should be pleased!"

"Vince, have you taken in anything I just said? There are two men trying to kill us!"

"Not 'ere, there aren't! Why can't you ever relax, have a bit of fun?"

"A bit of fun? Here? Why can't you ever take anything seriously? I didn't think even you were this stupid!"

Hurt suddenly shot through Vince's normally happy eyes, and Howard knew he'd gone too far.

"Vince," he said, "Vince, I didn't…"

"Go away," Vince said.

"No, Vince! Look, I'm sorry! But it's just –"

"I wanna shop," Vince said. "And you're obviously not the right person to do that with." He looked Howard up and down critically. "Just leave me alone, Howard. I'll have more fun without you, anyway."

"Fine!" Howard raged. "Fine! And when something goes wrong, don't come crying to me!"

"I'd rather kiss an eel!"

"Good!"

"Great!"

"I'm going then!"

"Good!"

"Fine!"

And Howard stormed off – pushing past a group of teenagers. He looked down and noticed they were the same ones as the ones by the t-shirts. They were all looking like someone had just told them the world was flat after all.

"Enjoying the view?" he snarled at them, and stormed off up the escalators.

One of the girls started crying.

By the changing rooms, Vince watched Howard go. Oh well. He'd have more fun without Howard drooping around after him, complaining and turning everything into a drama. He went back into the changing rooms to finish trying on his stuff – even though he couldn't help feeling a little wistful that he wouldn't have someone there to tell him how things looked. Even if Howard knew nothing about clothes. Even so.

-----

But Vince had a good day. He found his own credit card – "See? I don't need him! I don't even need his cash! I can look after myself" – and bought about five outfits from Topshop. He put the sequined hat on his head just because he always looked good in hats, and went off.

He found a very genius bus with an open top and took a trip round the city. This London was quite different from his London. His own London was soft colours and small streets. This London was sharp greys and cars everywhere. Vince thought he probably preferred home, but this was certainly fun for a day or two. He liked this bus, too. It let him see the sights – or that was what the man with the microphone, who wasn't actually a rock star, said it did when Vince asked. It also let other people see him: two girls came over, blushing furiously, and asked if they could have pictures with him. Vince never needed persuading to pose, so he let them each take about five photos with him, and then struck a few poses on his seat for them to photograph. They looked thrilled. Vince liked that: everyone was happy. He liked happy things. Some of the people in this world seemed miserable. The people on the street all had down-turned mouths. That made Vince sad and he didn't like being sad.

He found an enormous big wheel and took a ride on that. That would stop any being sad at all. The cabins were glass. Vince thought he could walk straight through but found he couldn't. All the same, it was a sunny day and the view was genius. The river sparkled like a glittery belt and Vince wished he could pick it up and tie it round his waist.

When he came off the big wheel he was hungry. He found a stall selling ice-creams. The woman there gave him her number. Vince thought he might call some time. She sold good ice-cream.

Then he rode around on the train a bit more, and found Parallel Camden Market. He met some girls there. More than some. Lots of girls. Parallel Universe girls obviously had good tastes. They liked Vince.

He was still in Camden when it came to evening, and he decided he might see what Parallel Universe bars were like. He found one – the Hawley Arms, it was called – and sauntered in. A few people took photos of him. Vince liked this. It was like being famous.

He strutted over to the bar, smiling back at the people who smiled at him, and leant against it.

A short, slim bar girl with long dark hair turned round to him, looking rather tired. "What can I –?" she started, and then took a proper look at the man lounging against the bar. "Oh my God!"

Vince grinned. "All right?"

"Oh God," said the girl. She took a deep breath. "Oh, I'm sorry. It's just – I love your TV show."

"Huh?"

"I love your TV show. It's incredible, so original…"

"I don't – I don't have a TV show," Vince said.

"Oh!" The girl's hands flew to her mouth. "Oh, God, I'm so sorry! I thought you were – " She started laughing.

"Nah, it's okay. Don't worry." Vince smiled.

"Oh God, that's so embarrassing." The girl giggled nervously, and smiled back at Vince. "I guess you hear all the time, that you look like Noel Fielding."

"Who?"

"Oh." The girl blinked. "Oh, never mind. Just the guy I thought you were. What can I get you, anyway?"

"I'll have a flirtini," Vince smiled.

The girl looked a bit surprised, but then she shrugged and set to work.

"What's your name then?" Vince asked, looking round the bar at the people chatting and laughing.

"Alexandra. What about you?"

"I'm Vince."

Alexandra's hand slipped, and she knocked over the glass. Liquid splashed all over the bar. "Oh, shit!"

"Don't worry."

"No, it's – what do you say your name was?"

"Vince. Vince Noir."

Alexandra's mouth opened and closed a few times, but she seemed unable to say anything.

But, at that moment, they were both distracted by a commotion by the door. Photographers were following a very skinny woman with a lot of hair into the bar, snapping furiously.

"Look at her hair!" Vince said, impressed. "She must use some serious hairspray! I should get the brand off her!"

"Oh God, it's Amy Winehouse!" Alexandra was muttering. "This is gonna get rough, those photographers won't leave now."

"Is she famous?" Vince asked.

Alexandra just stared at him this time.

-----

Parallel London – or this part of it, at least, wasn't nice at night.

Howard Moon had had a very tiring day, following Vince around and always trying to stay out of sight. Howard was good at that sort of thing. Once he'd tracked Dixon Bainbridge round the zoo and he'd never noticed a thing. Howard Moon was a master of disguise, among his many talents.

Now he was sitting on a bench opposite the pub Vince had been in for at least five hours. Howard had been wondering for about three of those hours whether to go in and get him out.

He looked up at the sky. It was smoggy, unlike at home, where the sky was sweet and stars stuck to the purple-dark blue of it at night, and the moon was so big and round. Here he couldn't even see the moon.

-----

_Error: this is the part where the moon should make some witty and amusing comments, but, regrettably, we are not in the world of the Boosh. We are in London, England, in the 21__st__ Century in our world, and the moon can't speak. Apologies for any inconvenience caused._

-----

Howard watched with faint disgust as someone came staggering out of the bar and threw up in the gutter. He didn't like this parallel world at all.

He didn't like to think of Vince in there, doing God only knew what with God only knew who. Vince was too ditzy to understand that there might be something seriously wrong here. He would go along with anyone who smiled at him and wanted to dance.

Howard wasn't sure how these parallel universe people knew about them. After all, none of them had ever heard of this parallel universe before. But he couldn't shake the feeling that they might all be in terrible danger: him and Vince, and also everyone back at home.

And he was still troubled – troubled being the intellectual way that Howard Moon got scared – by the fact that everyone seemed so interested in him and Vince.

As he watched the bar, a short, black-haired woman came out, wrapping a long, velvety black coat – almost a cape – round herself. She was holding her mobile phone. She held it to her ear and Howard watched her start talking. Then, apparently finding it too noisy near the bar, she crossed the road. Howard could hear what she was saying: "It was bizarre! He looked exactly like him, and he ordered the drink – yeah, the flirtini – and he said his name was Vince –"

Howard jumped.

"Yeah, I know! But he claimed he didn't know about it!"

Oh God, what was going on now? Who was this girl calling? Maybe she was working with the murderers. He had to get Vince out of that bar now.

He leapt up, and then almost overbalanced and had to right himself. Keeping his head down so the girl wouldn't notice him, he hurried across the road.

"No, just him. No, Michael Fielding wasn't there! I keep telling you, I don't have a thing for Michael Fielding! I just think Naboo's cool…"

Meanwhile, Howard had reached the bar.

He could hear thunderous music from inside and people shouting.

This was the last place Howard wanted to go. Howard should be in a jazz club, discussing poetry with intellectuals of both genders – many beautiful intellectual women who adored his deep thoughts, of course, but he wouldn't mind some men as well – not creeping into strange booze dens full of vomiting drunks. But Vince was in there. Howard had to get him out.

He pushed the door nervously and went inside.

It was more horrible than he'd imagined. People were collapsing against tables, shouting, laughing, drinking, arguing, spilling beer everywhere.

Howard fought very hard against the urge to run straight out back the door. For a few moments he stood completely still, trying to gather himself.

Then he thought of Vince, alone, vulnerable. Probably not scared. But he would be if any of these people got their hands on him.

Howard set off into the bar, edging nervously round two kissing men.

Eventually, he spotted Vince at a table in the corner, surrounded by girls. Vince was clutching a bottle of something. His eyes looked glazed and he was staggering. Howard groaned to himself. Vince was very drunk.

Howard walked briskly towards them, trying to look more confident than he felt. He certainly didn't fancy the idea of trying to extract Vince from a group of girls. Especially not in this strange world where everyone was so fascinated by them…

One of the girls suddenly turned round and saw him.

"Oh my God!"

And suddenly they were all squealing. Several of them were clutching onto Vince, several more were coming at Howard, others were generally yelping. Howard looked rather desperately at Vince.

"Howard!" Vince yelled, spotting him. He tried to come towards him and staggered, almost going flat on his face. Howard rushed forwards, shoving girls out of the way, and seized his friend before he smashed his nose on the floor.

"Howard?" Vince burbled, as Howard pulled him upright. "Howard – what you doing here? I've got some friends, Howard… Howard… Howard…"

"Vince, we need to get you out of here," Howard muttered.

He felt hands on his back and turned. Several girls were grabbing onto him. "Hi!" "You coming to join us?" "We were going club, weren't we?"

"Who said that?"

"He did."

"Vince!" Howard hissed.

"I want – I want to dance – dance, dance, dance," Vince slurred.

"I think he needs to get home," Howard told the girls.

A collective groan rose from all of them.

"No!" "You can't leave!" "We were going clubbing!"

One girl seized Howard's shirt. "I love you," she said. "Like, I think… I think you're really…"

"Oh. Thank you," Howard stammered, trying to edge away and support Vince at the same time. They were never going to get away at this rate. Maybe this was the plan, to distract them with women so the murderers could creep in…

But, suddenly, there was a commotion by the bar. A woman with a lot of hair had lost her balance on her heels and fallen flat on her face.

Everyone spun round to see what was happening. Photographers rushed to take pictures.

Howard saw their opportunity. "Come on, Vince," he hissed. He tried to make the mod walk but Vince was so drunk he could hardly put one foot in front of the other. People were crowding round the fallen woman but it would only be a matter of time before they lost interest. Getting slightly desperate, Howard lifted Vince up, swung him over his shoulder in a fireman's lift, and hurried out of the bar.

"Hello, Howard's back," Vince mumbled, his pointy chin digging in between Howard's shoulder blades as Howard hurried away down the street.

"Jesus Christ, Vince," Howard said. "Do you have any idea what we're involved in here? There was a woman talking on the phone about you! There's people after us, I'm sure of it!"

"Howard…"

"Just running off like that! Anything could have happened!"

"Howard… I'm gonna…"

Howard got Vince off his back just before Vince threw up.

"I feel like I'm dead," Vince moaned when he was done, leaning against Howard. "I feel worse than your jazz shit is…"

"It's your own fault," Howard said, but gently. He put an arm round Vince. "Come on, little man. We're going to have to find somewhere to sleep."

"I can taste it," Vince whimpered.

"Well, I can't do anything about it, can I? Come on."

So off they went down the road – very, very slowly. It was really night by this time, and the streets were empty, except for the occasional crowds of drunken people. Whenever groups like that appeared, Howard would pull Vince back into the shadows. He wasn't taking any chances.

Vince didn't put up much resistance. He wasn't focusing on anything except the fact that his mouth tasted bad.

"Will you stop moaning?"

"But –"

"Look," Howard sighed. "There's a newsagent over there. You – you sit on that bench, and I'll get you some water. Okay?"

"Okay, Howard," Vince said – all meek now he was getting what he wanted, Howard thought. All the same, he couldn't afford to get annoyed. Vince needed looking after.

He got his friend onto the bench. "Don't move," he said. "And don't talk to anyone. I won't be long."

Vince nodded, and Howard set off to the newsagent.

Vince leant back on the bench and clutched his head. He felt awful. Maybe parallel universe alcohol was different from regular alcohol. Vince couldn't even remember all of what he'd drunk. All he knew was that his head was pounding. And he could still taste vomit. He hoped Howard would hurry back…

"Well, look who it is!"

Vince looked up, and saw Howard standing over him.

Vince frowned. He was sure Howard hadn't been dressed like that. No, Howard had been wearing beige… but he wasn't any more. He looked different. Better. Almost nice. For Howard. Vince groaned faintly. He wasn't used to thinking this kind of stuff, especially when he was drunk.

"Where did you…?" He gestured feebly at Howard's clothes, but Howard just glared at him. What was the matter with him? Okay, Vince might have run off and then got drunk, but he hadn't been _that_ bad. Howard always put up with him.

"What's the matter?"

Howard was shaking his head. "I don't know why I'm surprised, seeing you like this. It's hardly a new thing, is it?"

"Huh?"

Suddenly, a voice called out: "Hey, you! Leave him alone!"

And Howard came running over, clutching the promised bottle of water.

Vince whimpered with confusion. Two Howards? What? But Howard was here – but Howard was there –

Howard Number Two elbowed Howard Number One out of the way. "Get lost, you weirdo!" he snapped. "Vince!" He knelt in front of the mod. "I thought I said don't talk to anyone."

"Howard… Howard…"

"What is it, little man?"

"I think I'm seein' double…"

"What?"

Vince pointed with a rather shaky finger. "There's two of ya."

Howard groaned and turned round – and then froze.

* * *

**Eek!**

**I promise the next update will be quicker! Promise!!**

**Also, "Bliss Of Another Kind" will get updated either today or tomorrow. Promise (again). Sorry that one's been so long.**

**Hope you enjoyed.**

**violence x**


	5. Is this your idea of a joke?

**Right! Here we go-go-go! Ta-da-da!! Howard and Vince meet Julian and Noel!!**

**Nice bit of angst for you first though... or maybe not nice, if you don't want angst. But it doesn't go on too long, honest.**

**After the angst it goes back in time a couple of hours. I was just going to start with the angst and go on from there but loads of people said they wanted Julian's reaction, so I put that in... but I thought the angst made a good beginning. So there we are.**

**Disclaimer: not mine, yah-yah.**

* * *

**Chapter Five**

**_"Is this your idea of a joke?"_**

Memories are like torture.

Worse than anything they could ever do in those Medieval castles you go and look round. Far, far worse, because those torture instruments are objects, objects you can fear and avoid and objectify. Memories creep back. Memories never go away. Even alcohol is only temporary, and he can hardly even stomach that any more, because that reminds him too.

Memories are like drugs. That's what they're like. Enticing but agonising. Calling him back.

Why can't he stop thinking? He wishes he could flick off a switch and it would all be gone. Blackness. Erased. Easy as flicking a light out.

But erase what? Years of his life?

That's what it is, what makes it hurt so much.

Or maybe that isn't it. He doesn't know anymore.

All he knows is here, now: the mattress dipping to support his weight, his hands gripping the photograph frame so hard it hurts. He wonders about smashing the glass and cutting his hands. That would be dramatic, like he was in a movie. But he isn't in a movie. Sometimes he thinks he should be.

Maybe he will be. Maybe now, now all this is over, he'll start starring in films. He could even get into Hollywood. He'd be a change from all that comedy shit over there. He knows people like him enough.

He knows it won't work. It would be agony without – without –

And it would be a snub, too. "Look at me, they always liked me more than they liked you. Look how I'm living now, and look at yourself. Pathetic. Boring. Old." The childish insults that were once funny but now start to seem all too painful, all too close to what he says in the arguments.

And then every so often he stands back from them both, and sees them: two men, two men who used to have it all, and what now? He remembers when it was all a joke. He wonders, occasionally, in quiet, painful moments, what really happened to make it change.

And the photo frame is still digging into his palms. And the picture seems determined to make its presence known: them, the way they used to be, the way everyone thinks they still are. The way you loathe once you've stopped getting on with someone. The way he still sometimes wishes they could be, even though he knows it won't happen. He doesn't want it to happen. He doesn't know what he does want.

He looks down at it, not wanting to. The photo in his lap, resting over his thighs in their tight, stylish jeans. He hears he is breathing hard but is not really aware of doing it. He looks at their smiles: his own smile, crooked, exciting, cheery. Tempting, in ways he didn't really understand until a couple of years ago when he suddenly started getting all that attention… And then that other smile.

He slams the photo face-down on his bed and clutches his hands in his lap, rocking backwards and forwards as though in physical pain. It all feels so wrong now. And in a week's time – only a week. In a week's time they sign the contracts. Terminating the contracts. Over. Goodbye. Forever. Fuck you. Storm off. Never speak again. Regret it forever.

He knows he will, even though now he still can't think of anything better than ending it.

He feels damp on his face and wipes his cheeks furiously, so hard it stings. He won't let this get to him, he has so much going for him. He doesn't need this anymore…

The phone suddenly blares, making him jump and swear. Groaning, he staggers off his bed and goes over to it. "Yeah?"

"Noel," says a very formal voice.

"Oh God, it's you. What the hell do you want?"

"I think you should come over."

"And I think you should suck a cock, I'm not comin' anywhere near you."

There is a deep intake of breath down the phone. Then, in a voice fighting to control itself: "I really want you to come over."

"Jesus Christ, what is this? Some perverted thing you got going on? What you want me at your house for, anyway? Gonna murder me and chop my body into bin bags?"

"Will you shut up! This is important!"

"I don't think anything you've got to say to me is important."

"Look, listen. Was your house broken into earlier?"

He stops at that. "Yeah. It was. Why?" Then his anger, his hurt, his strange desire to hurt everyone else, in particular his former friend on the other end of the phone, comes back with a vengeance. "What, you tellin' me you put 'em up to it? I wouldn't put it past you, to be honest…"

"No," growls the other man. "I've got the people who did it. I've got them here."

"You did put 'em up to it!"

"No, I didn't! Look, this is… there's something…" He stops and sighs. "They've got your hair straightners and knowing you, you're gonna want those back."

He groans. He does kind of need those straightners… "Maybe I'll drop by very quickly to get 'em."

"Well, don't over-exert yourself. Don't think I want to see you." The line goes dead.

Bastard.

-----

_A couple of hours earlier._

For a full five minutes, nobody said anything.

Howard felt his stomach start to hurtle, but nothing happened because he hadn't eaten anything all day. Not since breakfast that morning. The morning Naboo left to his emergency meeting. Was that really today? It felt like years ago…

It was his own face. Staring back at him. Same small, brown eyes (well, they were small. There was nothing wrong with eyes being small. Big eyes were so mainstream, whatever Vince might think. Small eyes had a certain miniature unique charm all their own – except apparently they weren't unique any more). Same nose, same mouth. Same hair. No, not same hair. This man's hair was styled, and his moustache was more clipped. He wasn't dressed like Howard, either. He was wearing black trousers and a black jacket, and a shirt. Like an older celebrity hitting the town. Like Howard might look if he was going on a big date. If Howard ever went on dates, which he didn't. But other than that, there was no telling them apart. They even had the same stunned expressions.

How long they would have stood there is impossible to say. Two (almost) identical men, wearing identical looks of shock on their faces.

In fact, if Vince hadn't suddenly thrown up again, they might have stood there all night.

But Vince did suddenly lurch forwards and retch, and Howard and the Man-Who-Looked-Like-Howard both jumped back.

"My shoes!" said the Man-Who-Looked-Like-Howard – and then seemed to realise how ridiculous this was, given the circumstances, and gave himself a little shake.

Howard was torn between continuing to stare at this doppelganger and helping his electro friend, who was now half off the bench and moaning.

He'd read about doppelgangers. Howard Moon was a well-read man, yes sir. Or maybe Naboo might have told him about them, he didn't remember. Anyway, he knew that people had once thought you saw your doppelganger before you died. Given that there were two murderers after them, Howard couldn't help feeling this was distinctly bad timing. Or maybe it was good timing, depending on how you looked at it.

He wondered if he should say something. But what do you say to the identical twin you never knew you had and have just bumped into in the street?

"Howard…" Vince whimpered.

The Man-Who-Looked-Like-Howard drew in his breath very sharply at that.

"Yeah, Vince…" Howard muttered, not taking his eyes of the other man's face.

The Man-Who-Looked-Like-Howard swayed a bit, looking like he was about to collapse.

"I don't like it here anymore. I want to go _home_."

"Oh God," said the Man-Who-Looked-Like-Howard suddenly, and he sat down very heavily on the bench next to Vince, as though his legs wouldn't support him any more. Maybe they wouldn't. Howard understood how he was feeling, but now there was no more room on the bench, especially because Vince edged away from the Man-Who-Looked-Like-Howard as though he had rabies.

For a few seconds, there was the most horrible and awkward of horrible awkward silences.

Then the Man-Who-Looked-Like-Howard opened his mouth as though he was going to say something. But he apparently lost the ability to talk in the middle of forming the words, and so he closed his mouth again and the silence continued.

"Right," said Howard, finally. He thought someone should take charge of this situation. "Well. This has been lovely, and, we should be going. Vince here is ill, and, well, we can't hang around." He reached down to pull Vince up. "So. Bye."

"Wait!" said the other man, in a rather strangled voice.

Howard's legs were feeling distinctly weak. He didn't want to talk to this person who looked just like him. He wanted to get as far away from them as possible. But Vince turned round at that, rather giddily, hanging off Howard's arm, and said, "You're from Leeds!"

The man blinked.

"Howard here's from Leeds too!" Vince said excitedly. Hey, Howard!" He tugged Howard's arm. "He's from Leeds like you!"

"Oh God," said the Man-Who-Looked-Like-Howard again, almost laughing, and clutched his head like he was trying to hold it together.

Howard tried to think of something to say but couldn't.

"Does… does everyone in Leeds… have moustaches?" Vince asked dopily, wobbling about.

"Vince," Howard hissed. Vince must have noticed this was more than a passing resemblance. In fact, he had noticed. He'd thought he was seeing double. Surely he'd realise there was something going on now!

But, apparently not. In the world of Vince Noir, someone being from the same city as Howard was apparently confirmation that they were okay.

"I wonder what… what his name is… hey, you." He attempted to nudge the man with his foot but missed. "Hey, what's your name?"

The man just stared.

"We're…" Vince looked expectantly at Howard.

Howard sighed. He always did the introductions. "I'm Howard Moon, and this is Vince Noir. Vince." He turned to his drunken friend. "I really, _really_ would like it if you could just trust me on this one and come away…"

"What's your name?" Vince said again.

The Man-Who-Looked-Like-Howard opened his mouth and closed it again a couple of times, started to say one thing, stopped, almost laughed, controlled himself, and then said, with an air of giving in and not knowing what else to do, "I'm Julian."

"Hi, Julian," said Vince, staggering a bit. "You're from Leeds, aren't you?"

"Um… yes." The Man-Who-Looked-Like-Howard – Julian – started to say something else, stopped, and then said, "What – what did you say your names were?"

"I'm Vinsh…" Vince slurred. "Vinsh Noir."

"Ah," said Julian.

"Vince," Howard started, but Vince was off again: "And this is Howard. He's me best mate, although I don't know why, he likes jazz." He giggled in a rather creepily cute way, hands up by his mouth so he looked oddly like an electro version of the girl in The Exorcist.

"Oh Jesus," muttered Julian, clutching his forehead.

"You got a headache? I got a headache. I was in a bar, they all liked me in there, all takin' photos… they thought I was on TV."

"Oh Jesus," said Julian again.

"Vince! Stop it!" Howard hissed. "We've got to go!"

"No!" Julian suddenly leapt up. "No, don't do that!"

Oh God, Howard thought. Now what's going to happen? He clutched Vince protectively.

"Do you wanna come too?" Vince asked. He'd apparently forgotten how ill he'd been feeling before. But this wasn't unusual for Vince. He changed his mood faster than the second hand on a clock changed its position. He raised a finger unsteadily. "Only, don't you both just talk about Leeds… I never been to Leeds… 'cept once maybe… Howard, did you ever take me to Leeds…?"

"Um, no, Vince… look, we really need to go," Howard said, forcing a smile.

"Don't," Julian said.

Oh help. What was this? Why didn't he want them to go? Was he in league with the murderers too? Or maybe he was just some sort of pervert?

"We'll go if we want to," said Howard, far more bravely than he felt. This man looked exactly like him. Did he have the moves like Howard did as well? Who knew what he was capable of?

And they were in a parallel universe that was becoming more and more like a horror film every minute. Howard half expected flesh-eating bugs to appear, or an invisible witch to start massacring them, or David Bowie to land on earth…

No, that wasn't a horror film; it was just one of those horrible films Vince watched.

"Well, where are you going?"

"Um… home…" Howard said, rather desperately.

"Are we going home?" Vince asked. "Back to Naboo? Has he sorted out everything falling apart yet? Has he got rid of those men in me wardrobe?"

"Vince, shush."

Julian was muttering something that sounded like, "Men in his wardrobe? We didn't put that in…"

"Sorry?" said Howard.

Julian turned back. "Do you – do you have anywhere to stay?"

"Yes," said Howard, hoping he sounded convincing.

"No," said Vince.

Oh Christ.

"No, we don't, and I don't wanna sleep on a park bench… ooh… everything's shaking… Howard…" And Vince lurched forwards and vomited, again.

Howard clutched Vince to support him.

"What did he drink?" Julian asked.

"I don't know," Howard replied grimly, "But it's okay. I'm used to this."

"Me too. My friend – well, I know someone who gets like this a lot and it's always me there looking after him. Or it was," Julian finished darkly.

Howard nodded understandingly – and then realised that he was having an almost-friendly conversation with his identical twin. He shook himself. What was he doing? Letting himself get lulled into a sense of false security. Vince was too drunk, and too stupid, to think about danger. They'd know this, Howard thought. Maybe that was why they were targeting him with this doppelganger, rather than Vince. He mustn't allow them to distract him. He needed to stay alert.

Vince finally finished throwing up and leant against Howard. "I'm gonna die…" he mumbled, the bad effects of the drink back again.

"No, you're not."

"I wanna sleep…" Vince whimpered, clutching Howard.

"No, little man, just stay awake a bit longer. I'll find somewhere for you."

"You don't have anywhere to stay!" Julian said triumphantly.

Whoops.

"Well, I didn't say that…"

"You can come back with me."

Oh dear.

"Oh, Howard, can we?" Vince cried, jumping (not literally) at the chance of somewhere to lie down. He felt so sick and awful now, all he wanted to do was sleep.

Howard was going to say no. But then he looked at Vince's pained, drunken eyes, and knew that his friend desperately needed rest. So did he, if he was honest.

So he agreed to go, even though part of him couldn't help wondering if this was a terrible mistake.

-----

"Put him on my sofa, in there…" Julian indicated through to a living room.

"Thanks," Howard muttered, staggering, trying to support Vince, who was practically comatose by this time.

They'd walked to Julian's car and driven back to his house. Julian had said he'd been going to meet some friends, but it didn't matter, he could postpone it. Howard still wasn't sure why he was so keen for them to come back here. He couldn't help feeling suspicious. Very suspicious.

But, as soon as they got in the back seat of the car, Vince leant against him and wrapped his arms round him, snuffling, and whimpering occasionally when they went over bumps – and Howard had known that Vince really did need to rest. He needed a bed. He was going to need somewhere to recover tomorrow. If Howard stayed alert, surely nothing _too_ bad could happen…

All the same, he'd been a little unnerved by the way Julian had watched them in the rear-view mirror all the way back to his house. Howard hadn't understood. His face had looked strange: somewhere between disbelieving and wistful.

"I need to make a phone call; be through in a few minutes," Julian said, sounding distracted, and disappeared.

Howard hauled Vince into the living room. There were some photographs stacked at one end of the sofa but Howard wasn't sure where to put them, so he just laid Vince carefully down so his head was at the opposite end from the pictures, and hoped his shoes weren't too dirty and he wouldn't kick the pictures down in his sleep. The mod stirred a bit as he was gently placed on the sofa. His eyes attempted to focus on Howard's face. "Is it okay here, Howard?" he asked.

Howard swallowed. He didn't want to frighten his friend, but at the same time, he didn't want to lie. Besides, he knew what would happen if it turned out it wasn't okay. "But you said it was okay!" Vince would shriek.

"I – I think so, Vince," he said, after a minute.

Vince sighed and stretched sleepily, making a faint half-purring sound vaguely reminiscent of a dozy cat. "I think he's okay… he's from Leeds."

"Yeah, well, not everyone from Leeds is okay, Vince."

"But you're from Leeds and you're okay…" Vince mumbled. He ran his hand down Howard's face. "You're my best friend…"

Howard shook his head. "You need to sleep."

"Okay," said Vince obediently, and rolled over, hiding his face against the sofa cushions.

Howard sighed and stood up. He was exhausted himself, but he didn't intend to ask for a bed. No, he needed to stay awake. Anything could happen if they both fell asleep – and it was more important to let Vince sleep, because he needed to lose the effects of all that drink. Maybe, Howard thought, rubbing his itching eyes, asking for a coffee wouldn't be totally out of the question.

He peered idly at the shelves, looking at photographs and books. Nothing very exciting here…

Wait a moment!

Howard rushed to one of the shelves like a child seeing Santa Claus in a department store.

There was a rattle by the door, and Julian reappeared. He'd taken his jacket off and was rubbing his neck like he was in very serious pain. He looked down at Vince on his sofa. It looked like he was asleep – but suddenly his eyes fluttered open. "Howard?"

"Um…"

"Oh. It's you. Okay." Vince wrapped his arms round his head and brought his knees up towards his chin.

Julian continued gazing down at him.

Then he suddenly noticed Howard ransacking his shelves. "What are you doing?"

Howard turned round, clutching several records. He looked slightly mad.

"You like jazz!"

He couldn't understand why Julian seemed about to laugh. "Yes," he said. "Yes, I do."

Howard suddenly wasn't sure what to do. He gave Julian a rather awkward smile.

Julian nodded back to him, apparently also unsure of what to do. "Oh, um… remember those hair straightners you said you had?"

"Yeah."

"Where did you put them?"

"Left them in the hall; why?"

"Oh, no reason. I, um, I might have someone coming round in a while… just quickly; I don't think he'll come in…"

"Okay." Howard suddenly noticed one of the records of the shelf. "Oh my God, I've been looking for this for ages!"

"Oh, that! That took me ages to find. I was going round shops for years…"

And within a few moments, they were both caught up in a long and detailed conversation about rare records and the blues scale and who was the best jazz musician in history.

-----

_Briiiing!_

The sound of the doorbell seemed to cut through Vince's skull.

"Ow…" he whimpered, half-waking up because he'd only been half-asleep, hoping Howard or this other guy – Julian or whatever – would get it.

But: _Briiiiiiing!_

"Door!" he called feebly, but there was no reply.

_Briiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing!_

"Okay, I'll get it," Vince muttered, more because he couldn't bear the noise than because he wanted to be helpful. He hauled himself up, feeling like he was about to collapse. He wobbled out of the living room, clutching his head – unnoticed by the other two men, who were still so absorbed in the thrill of having someone to rave about jazz with (not something that happened to either of them very often) that they hadn't even heard the bell.

The front door was visible at the end of the hall. Vince clutched at the walls to make sure he didn't fall over and went unsteadily towards it.

_Briiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing!_

"Yeah, all right…" Vince reached the door and hauled it open, almost falling through it as he did.

But his mood brightened considerably – well, brightened considerably for someone stuck somewhere between being wasted and being hung over – when he saw the person outside.

A man.

A man in tight red jeans and a black jacket.

A man who actually looked almost as good as Vince himself did. As good. Maybe even _better_. Someone Vince wouldn't have minded making his style icon for a little while. And he was wearing, Vince noticed, white boots. Very, very genius white boots.

"Hello," Vince said eagerly.

A look of shock appeared on the man's face, but Vince was too drunk to notice. "I'm Vinsh… Vinsh Noir…"

The man's mouth had dropped open. He took a step backwards, shaking his head.

"I like your hair…" Vince stepped towards the man, but lost his footing – or maybe he just keeled over from the drink – and fell on him, his nose catching on his shoulder, so he was slumped against him. The other man staggered, gasping.

"Oh… sorry…" Vince burbled, trying but failing to get back up.

"Julian!" the other man hollered.

Howard and Julian were comparing record collections – Julian pulling records out and Howard reeling off names – when they heard the yells.

"Oh God," Julian said, jumping up.

"What? Who is it?"

"It's…" Julian turned round and saw the empty sofa. "Oh God, where is he?"

"I don't know!" Howard panicked. "Vince!"

"He must be out there! Oh, shit!" Julian went to run out of the door, and then stopped. Howard crashed into his back. "What?"

Julian was looking at the sofa, now Vince-less so the photographs that had been on it were clearly visible. "Oh, shit, those photos… I forgot…"

"What, what's the matter?"

Julian gathered up the pictures. "Um… quick, hide those!" he said, thrusting them at Howard and rushing out of the room.

Howard looked around frantically, but wasn't sure where to put the pictures. So he stuck them in his inside pocket and rushed after Julian.

The scene he saw was – well, actually, it could have been worse. He was expecting worse.

But it was still bad. Vince was half out of the front door, sprawling against a terrified-looking young woman with dark hair, who was trying to push him off. Julian was standing in the hall, staring at them. He wasn't moving. Just looking, as though he'd never seen anything like this before. He seemed rooted to the spot.

"Vince!" Howard cried. He rushed down the hall, pushing Julian out of the way. He seized the mod round the waist and hauled him up. Vince slumped backwards against him. The woman staggered away.

"I'm so sorry, miss…" Howard started, struggling with Vince.

"Miss?" screamed the woman.

Howard looked up – and almost dropped Vince, because… well, because Vince was standing on the doorstep, blue eyes wide with shock, hair slightly ruffled from the struggle, clutching the door frame for support.

"Oh God, this again," Howard muttered, clutching the door frame himself.

The other man – not Vince, but who looked like Vince – had spotted Julian.

"Is this your idea of a joke, Barratt?" he bellowed.

Julian came forwards now. "Look, just calm down…"

"Calm down! Calm down?" screeched the Vince look-a-like on the doorstep, reminding Howard distinctly of a few days earlier when he had told Vince to calm down about his hair, and Vince had shouted nearly the same thing in nearly the same voice.

"What's… what's _this?_" the Vince look-a-like was yelling, indicating Howard and Vince.

Howard was slightly insulted by that. He opened his mouth – but before he could speak, Vince piped up, "I'm Vince Noir, and this is Howard Moon."

Julian looked confused. "That sounded weird," he muttered.

The Vince look-a-like staggered backwards. "What the hell's going on?" he shouted, at no-one in particular. No-one seemed to have an answer either.

"Howard… Howard… Howard…" Howard felt a hand pawing at his neck. He looked down at Vince, who he was still supporting, and who was batting at him, trying to get his attention.

"What?"

"I… well…"

"What?"

"Do you… do you think I should get my hair done like his?" Vince asked, indicating the man on the doorstep. "Y'know, with the fringe and all."

Howard couldn't answer. He just stared at Vince, not knowing what to do.

* * *

**"Bliss Of Another Kind" update later tonight.**

**I have nothing else to do because MY DVD STILL HASN'T ARRIVED!! . **

**deep breath**

**Thanks for reading anyway. It makes me happy **

**violence x**


	6. The Wardrobe

**Okay so, having made such a big fuss about writer's block, I've now got this finished. Hehe. Oh well.**

**I'm not sure how good some of it is, but then again, it always was just a bit of fun so I hope it won't matter...**

**Disclaimer: Boosh characters belong to Julian Barratt and Noel Fielding. (Julian and Noel also presumably belong to Julian Barratt and Noel Fielding.)**

**Notes: Sorry Noel and Julian are still so argumentative, but it's weirdly fun to write!! Gah. Also, I**** hope no-one thinks Vince's behaviour in this chapter is stupid. I just thought it would be so like him to be completely star-struck by himself. He doesn't exactly fancy Noel, although I guess it kind of comes across that way at times. I haven't decided where this sub-plot is gonna go yet so I shall see how far I take it (partly on my own mind and how weird it gets, and partly on other people's reactions to it in this chapter.)**

* * *

**Chapter Six**

**_"If they came through your wardrobe, they can go back through your wardrobe"_**

"Where are they, then?"

"I put them in my spare room." Julian sat down heavily.

"Would you like to tell me what the fuck's going on, then?"

"I would like to, but I don't know," Julian said.

They were in the kitchen. Howard and Vince had finally been persuaded to go upstairs. Well, Howard had been persuaded. Vince hadn't really needed much persuading – or he was just too out of it to object..

Noel leant his head against one of the cupboards and rubbed his neck.

There was silence.

"Tea?" Julian suggested eventually, because he needed something to say. "Coffee?"

Noel looked up and glared. "Fuck off."

"It's called being friendly, Noel," Julian said. "Not something you know much about."

"I s'pose you think that's a really clever to thing to say," Noel shot back, "But you don't either, do ya?"

"Jesus Christ, do you have to turn everything into an argument?"

"Oh! Oh!" Noel put his hands up in a parody of astonishment. "So now this is all completely my fault?"

"Yes. It is. All I did was offer you a drink; you're the one who decided that meant it was time to start slinging insults around."

"Oh Christ." Noel clutched his hair and turned away. Julian leant his head on his hands.

For another few moments, there was silence.

"Look," Julian said eventually, "Whatever we think, whatever's going on with us, we've got to remember, there are two men upstairs who look exactly like us –"

"Look exactly like us? They _are_ us!"

"Except they're not, are they?" Julian said. "They're not us. They're separate people."

"Why did you bring 'em back here, anyway?"

"Why do you think? I didn't want them running around the streets; who knows what sort of problems that could have caused? Your one –"

"Vince," Noel said. "Or don't you even remember –?"

"Can we not?"

They both sighed.

"Yeah, anyway – Vince – he said he'd been in a bar or something and everyone thought he was on TV."

"Oh, Jesus Christ!"

"Exactly! And when we were in the car, they said they'd been in Topshop –"

"Well," said Noel, laughing in spite of himself, "We can guess whose idea that was."

Julian glared at him. "I didn't want them walking around and people thinking they were us."

Noel sighed. "No, no. You were right. But where did they come from?"

"They said they'd come through a wardrobe."

Noel laughed again. "What is this, a kid's movie?"

"Your wardrobe," Julian said.

"They said it was my wardrobe?"

"No, I just guessed it was from how they described the house. And they said that, um, Vince –" Julian was still finding it awkward talking as though the characters they'd invented were alive – "Came through before, the night you thought you heard someone in your room –"

"Oh yeah, I remember. The night you said I was like a prostitute."

"Well, you –!" Julian checked himself. "Yes, that night. And then they came back through today. And took your hair straightners."

"They did say," Noel said. "One of 'em – Vince, I guess – he shouted that he was Vince Noir and he had Howard with him, but I thought it must be kids taking the piss… And then they went out me bathroom window."

"Why didn't you follow them?"

"They'd locked the bathroom door! I went round the front but they'd gone by then." Noel sighed and sat down at the table, opposite Julian. But he didn't look at him. He looked very carefully at the table top. He reached out and ran his finger along one of the lines in the wood. Then he glanced up, his eyes very bright blue and piercing. "What are you gonna do, then? We can't tell anyone; they'll never believe us; we'll get sectioned if we start sayin' that Howard and Vince have –"

"No-one needs to know," Julian said.

"What, you just gonna clap your hands and they go up in a puff of smoke?"

"No," Julian said. "If they came through your wardrobe, they can go back through your wardrobe, can't they?"

Noel stopped for a moment – and then nodded. "Yeah," he said, "Yeah, I guess they can."

"And then we padlock it and throw it out."

"No! It's my wardrobe! It'll have all my clothes in there!"

"Noel!"

"Wouldn't expect you to understand about that kind of thing anyway," Noel said, getting up.

"Oh yes," Julian said. "Resort to talking like a ten-year-old; that'll make everything so much better."

"Christ," Noel muttered, shaking his head. "I can't deal with this."

"Are you leaving, then?"

"Why? Want me to stay?" Noel sneered.

"No, I was hoping you'd get the fuck out."

For a second they stared at each other.

"Right," Noel said.

"Except maybe we should all stay here."

"Oh, you do want me to stay!"

"No. But don't you think maybe we should all stay here, to make sure no-one sees us or them or anything?"

Noel sighed. "Where am I gonna sleep? It's one in the morning."

"Sofa?"

"Urgh." Noel rolled his eyes – but he stalked through to the living room. When Julian followed a few minutes later, Noel was already lying across the sofa cushions – looking very like Vince had earlier.

"Get your shoes off my cushions!"

"Wanker," Noel muttered, and didn't move.

Julian sighed, and decided not to press it. He went upstairs.

-----

The next morning, everyone was woken up too early by the sounds of Vince in the bathroom, feeling the full after-effects of his drink.

"I'm gonna die!" he choked to Howard, who was bending over him, before sticking his head back into the toilet and retching again.

"You're not going to die," Howard said, for what felt like the tenth time. He felt awful himself. He'd hardly slept. Vince had started snoring almost as soon as Julian had brought them to his spare room, but Howard was too worried. Julian and his friend, Noel, seemed okay – if a bit stressed; Howard had heard them arguing in the night – but Howard was still suspicious. They looked exactly like him and Vince. There was obviously something going on. Howard just hadn't been able to think for the life of him what it could be. He'd paced the room for hours, partly because he wanted to stay awake in case they were in danger, and partly trying to work out what might be happening. He'd eventually succumbed at about six in the morning – only to be woken at eight by Vince falling over as he tried to get out of bed to the bathroom.

"I don't like it – I wanna go home –" Vince whimpered, as he eventually finished throwing up and sat down heavily. Howard brought him some water.

"Cheers," Vince mumbled weakly. He looked around the bathroom, pushing his fringe back off his sweaty forehead where it had stuck. "Where are we, Howard?"

"We're – we're in Julian's house, remember?"

"Oh… yeah." Vince held his head weakly and sipped the water. "He looks like you," he said.

"Yes," Howard said grimly. "And there's another guy here now – d'you remember him?"

Vince's eyes screwed up as he tried to remember.

But then they suddenly widened.

Howard stared as the colour came back to Vince's cheeks, his eyes snapped brightly again, and his face split into a smile that was almost as big as his usual cheeky grin. He put his head and tossed his hair, which suddenly seemed glossier, back off his face. "I do remember him," he said, his voice slightly throaty from vomiting but still eager.

"What's got into you?" Howard asked.

"He's awesome," Vince said. "Did you see his boots?"

Howard felt his mouth drop open slightly. Vince was admiring someone else? Okay, Vince admired rock stars – but never people he just saw in the streets. Vince always considered himself better than everyone he saw in the streets. But here he was, practically swooning over this man.

"Is he here?" Vince asked.

"Yeah, I just…"

"I gotta get dressed." Vince looked down critically at himself, just in his underwear, and then tried to get up and almost fell over. Howard caught him before he knocked his head on the bath. "No, Vince, you're really ill! You need to lie down. I'll bring you some more water –"

"No, no, no," Vince said, pulling away from Howard. "I need to get dressed. Oh God, my clothes are gonna look rough after last night… Howard, help me." And he wobbled unsteadily out of the bathroom and down the corridor towards the room they'd slept in, calling, "C'mon, Howard, I need help."

Howard had no idea what was going on. Vince was never like this about people. Even when he was in bands and panicking about his appearance, that was because he wanted to show himself off – not because there was anyone he wanted to impress. Now he was almost acting like a love-struck teenager, except in a less romantic sense…

And then Howard realised.

This man looked exactly like Vince.

Obviously, Vince, possibly the world's vainest man, would be completely enthralled by somebody who looked exactly like himself.

Oh God, as long as he doesn't try to get with himself, Howard thought, hurrying after Vince into their room. That's the last thing I need. But he really wouldn't put it past Vince.

Vince was already dressed when Howard got into the room. He was in front of the mirror, making himself up.

"Where did all that stuff come from?" Howard asked, staring at Vince's make-up.

"I always carry me make-up," Vince said, not looking up. "Just travel supplies, you understand – not all me stuff. But you never know when you're gonna need it. I got inside pockets in all me jackets, to keep it in."

"In every jacket?"

"Yeah. Always packed, in every jacket."

"How much make-up do you have?"

"Not enough with me," Vince said, sounding irritated. "I wanted some blue eye shadow and I don't 'ave any – I don't believe it!"

"Vince." Howard went and sat on the bed, facing the mod. "Are you sure you should be so excited about these people?"

"He's so cool-lookin', Howard!" Vince said, rapturously.

"Vince! You're acting like a teenage girl with a crush!"

Vince just shook his head at Howard. He checked himself in the mirror. "Right," he said. "I'm goin'."

"I'm coming with you." Howard rushed after Vince as his friend walked to the door.

Vince paused, holding the door open. "No, you're not."

"What? Yes, I am!"

"What? In your underwear?" Vince laughed as Howard glanced down and remembered he still wasn't dressed. "See ya, Howard." And he was gone.

"Fuck!" Howard groaned, slumping back down on the bed. They were trapped in a Parallel Universe, there were two men who looked exactly like them – and, to top it all, Vince's obsession with himself had just reached dizzying new heights.

-----

There he was.

Sitting on the edge of the sofa, running a hand through his soft black hair.

Vince grinned excitedly to himself. This was like meeting David Bowie. He hastily arranged himself in the doorway, one hand up against the door frame, the other on his slightly-stuck-out hip, and widened his big blue eyes in the way he was expert at. Once he was certain he looked as good as he could, he spoke. "All right?"

The man on the sofa jumped, leaping up as he heard Vince's voice. He spun round – and then saw it was Vince. He groaned and put his hands over his eyes.

"Sorry!" Vince said, worried. "I didn't mean to scare ya!"

"No, no," sighed the man, shaking his head. "It's okay…"

Vince hesitated a minute. This man – Vince realised he didn't even know his name – seemed so tired. But he was still – well. Vince had never seen anyone like him before.

He thought they looked quite similar actually. But maybe that was just wishful thinking. Once he'd tried to convince himself he looked like Mick Jagger. He'd almost managed it – but then he'd mentioned it to his friends.

"Mick Jagger! Your mouth's too small," Howard had said.

"You can talk about parts of people's face being small!" Vince had glowered.

"Vince, if you look like anyone you look like Rod Stewart," Naboo had said.

Vince had decided never to tell them that he looked like any celebrities ever again.

Vince hoped he hadn't done anything to irritate this man. He had sat back down the sofa and was holding his hair in his hands. Vince decided not to tell him that gripping it like that could easily damage the roots. Instead, he said, again, "I'm sorry."

"You don't need to be sorry," said the man.

Vince hesitated a second, before stepping into the room. "I'm Vince," he said. "Vince Noir."

"Yeah, I know," said the man. Then he groaned again. "No, I'm sorry. Hi, Vince."

"Hi," Vince beamed. "What's your name, then?"

"Um… Noel," said the man.

"Noel what?"

"Fielding – Noel Fielding."

"Noel Fielding…" Vince tried it out. It sounded good.

It also sounded familiar, but Vince couldn't think why. His head still hurt a bit and he didn't really want to think too hard. So he just smiled his biggest smile.

For a few seconds there was silence: Vince standing grinning for all he was worth, and Noel on the sofa, looking up at him like he couldn't quite believe he was real. Which he couldn't.

But finally, when the whole thing seemed too awkward, Noel said uncomfortably, "Um… you can… sit on the sofa…"

Vince bounded onto the sofa as though he'd been given an invitation to sit next to the Queen. Or to Mick Jagger, maybe. He bounced on the cushions. Noel groaned and covered his eyes. He could tell already that a real-life Vince was going to be extremely tiring.

And the real-life Vince was looking at him with very big blue eyes. One of his pearly white teeth – of course, Vince would come in brilliant Technicolor – nibbled at his lower lip, almost erotically, but Noel didn't think he realised what he was doing.

He really was very…

"D'you like Gary Numan?"

Vince thought the silence had gone on long enough. This seemed like a good opener.

Noel seemed to have a short internal struggle. He seemed about to say something, then stopped, then seemed about to laugh, and then just sighed.

"Do you?"

"Um, yeah…"

"Genius," Vince grinned. He glanced down by the sofa, where Noel had left his boots the night before. "I like your boots."

"Thanks."

"Can I try 'em on?"

"I guess…"

Vince seized one of the boots, kicked off his own shoe and pulled it on. "Brilliant," he said, eyes lighting up even more than before (if that was possible). He glanced at Noel. "Think they suit me?"

Noel was rubbing his eyes. "Um… yeah. Obviously."

Vince just grinned dizzily, not noticing this rather strange reply. "I like your hair," he said. "Did I say last night?"

Yeah, thought Noel, right before you fell on top of me and almost gave me a heart attack. "Yeah, I think you did…"

"D'you think your style would suit me?" Vince reached out and brushed Noel's fringe. Noel jumped, and then twitched away. "Sorry!" Vince looked worried. "Shouldn't have touched your hair. No-one ever gets away with touchin' mine."

Noel wasn't sure what to say to that – but he was spared having to answer because, at that moment, Julian appeared in the doorway.

"Vince!"

No, not Julian. Howard.

"Hey, Howard!" Vince said happily. "You got dressed at last!"

"Yes," said Howard, looking rather uncomfortable.

Vince leapt up off the sofa. "Howard, come and meet Noel!"

"Yeah," said Howard awkwardly, flapping a hand rather pathetically. "Um, hi… Noel."

"Hi," said Noel, sounding equally awkward.

At that moment, another head appeared round the door. "Coffee, anyone?" asked Julian.

"Oh. It's you," Noel said.

"It is my house," Julian reminded him coldly. "There's coffee in the kitchen." He turned and came face to face with Howard. "Oh. Morning."

"Morning," said Howard.

Vince was pouting as he looked at Julian. He seemed to be thinking something.

-----

"I reckon you should get your hair like his!"

"What? No!" Howard whispered.

"Why not?" Vince whispered back.

"Because – because – because look at it! It's too long," Howard said. "And I can't have a beard. I do the moustache, Vince. You know that. Nothing else."

He and Vince were standing at one end of Julian's kitchen with cups of coffee, eyeing Noel and Julian, who were standing at the other end, as far away from each other as they could. As they looked, Vince caught Noel's eye and Vince flashed him a smile.

"And what about you, anyway?" Howard asked, taking a sip of his drink. "Going all misty-eyed over – over him." He glanced at Noel too.

"I'm not goin' misty-eyed!" Vince cried, his face reddening slightly – which looked weird when he was normally so pale – forgetting to whisper for a moment. Noel and Julian both looked up and Vince turned away hastily. "I'm not goin' misty-eyed," he muttered. "But don't you think he's awesome?"

"I think he's like you!"

"What's wrong with being like me? And don't compare me to 'im like that, I'm nothing like him…"

"It's not that!" Howard hissed in frustration. "He looks like you! He looks too like you! He looks exactly like you! Vince! Has it not occurred to you that –?"

"Aw, we don't look _that_ similar…" Vince said, suddenly sounding shy. "But Howard," he said eagerly, clutching Howard's arm, "Even you have to admit it, he's awesome! Look at him! Look at the way he works those trousers!" Vince glanced at Noel with excited appreciation, like a schoolgirl eyeing up the local heartthrob. "He's so cool! Noel Fielding. Don't you think that's just the coolest name? It even sounds like someone famous… Oh!" A look of recognition suddenly came into Vince's usually rather dopey eyes. "I know why his name sounds familiar!" he said, now talking in a kind of whispered scream. "He's the one that girl in the bar last night thought I was! Oh my God! Howard! They thought I was him! How cool is that?"

"Vince…" But Howard broke off. Vince was so oblivious. Especially now, when all he seemed to be able to see was a man who looked exactly like he did, only with slightly different hair. Howard couldn't think how to even begin to explain the many, many problems with this situation.

Meanwhile, across the kitchen, Noel and Julian were attempting to talk to each other too.

"How are we going to get them back to yours?" Julian asked quietly.

"I don't know, just tell 'em we're going somewhere or something," Noel said.

"And how are we gonna get them into your wardrobe?"

"I'll think of something! Christ." Noel turned away and caught Vince's eye. For a few moments they looked at each other – and then Vince gave Noel a rather coy smile and turned away.

Noel glanced up to see Julian shaking his head at him. "What?"

"I should have known," Julian said. "I should have known, if you ever met yourself, you'd be right in there."

"What?" Noel almost yelped, but then stopped himself. He didn't want Howard and Vince to hear. "What? Right in there? I'm not doing anything! I was just looking at him!"

"Looking at him quite eagerly," Julian said.

"Well," Noel said, "He does look… but… what? No! He's me! It's just the same as looking in the mirror."

"Keep it down!" Julian hissed. "We don't want them to hear! They'll freak out!"

"Okay. Okay."

Julian looked Noel up and down. "Anyway, I suppose for you, flirtatious glances and meaningful smiles are like looking in the mirror, aren't they?"

"Just cos I've got something worth looking at," Noel muttered.

Meanwhile, Howard decided try and get Vince to see the obvious problem with their current circumstances first.

"Vince, look. Remember, we're still in a parallel universe."

"I know," Vince said, not looking at Howard – Howard didn't need to look across the room to see who he was looking at. "But we can't go home until we find our way back to that house, and I don't think we're in danger."

"But what about the murderers?"

"How are they gonna find us? But yeah, guess you're right. Maybe we could ask them to help us."

"What? No!" Howard cried – but Vince was already strolling across the kitchen, grinning and tossing his hair back.

"Hey," he said, reaching the other two men, totally ignoring Julian and simply addressing Noel. "Look, um, we got a bit of a problem…"

"I noticed," Julian mumbled, looking at Vince and Noel. Noel gestured at him with his fingers and turned back to Vince. "What?"

"Well, look, me and Howard – that's Howard over there, in case you forgot him; sometimes people do – we're not from, like, around here. We're from somewhere else."

"Yeah," Noel said, slightly sarcastically, but fortunately Vince didn't notice.

"We're from… sounds weird, but we're kind of from a different world." He looked at Noel with his mouth slightly open, flicking his tongue over his teeth, as though he thought being from a different world might make him irresistibly attractive. "So, yeah. Different world."

"Mm," said Julian. "I seem you to remember you told me this last night, you and him." He indicated Howard, who seemed to be going through some sort of mental battle; he was clutching his head and screwing his face up.

"Is he okay?" Noel asked Vince.

"I dunno. He's a bit weird sometimes."

"I can tell," Noel said. They looked at each other and smiled – until Noel remembered this was basically the same thing as having a discussion with yourself about the weather, and cleared his throat loudly. He glanced at Julian, and then said, "Actually, we might know a way for you to get back –" He caught Julian's eye and Julian nodded to him.

"Really?" Vince asked. "Howard!" he shouted, too loudly, given that Howard was only across the kitchen. "Howard!"

"What?" Howard asked, jumping. He had been conducting a mental debate about the best way to drag Vince away from this Noel, get back to the house that contained the wardrobe, get home, and then attempt to sort out why things were breaking and people were disappearing – and that wasn't something it was comfortable to be distracted from, no sir.

"They know a way we can get home!" Vince said happily.

"They do?" Howard hurried forwards, and then stopped. "How?" he asked, suspicions flooding back. How did these men know anything about them coming from a different world? How on earth would they know how to get them back?

"Yeah," said Julian, stepping up now. Noel let him because he thought Howard might respond better to Julian. "You can go home through Noel's wardrobe."

"That was your wardrobe?" Howard yelled, almost jumping in the air in his shock. He rushed to Vince. "Vince! They're the murderers! We've gotta go!"

"Let go of me!" Vince cried, as Howard seized his arm.

"Murderers?" Julian repeated.

"What the hell's wrong with him?" Noel asked.

"Stay back!" Howard shouted, clutching Vince. "You're trying to kill us!"

"What's he doing?" Noel asked, as Howard tried to drag Vince out of the room.

"We're not trying to kill you," Julian said, trying to sound calming.

"Ha, ha!" Howard shouted, fumbling for something to defend them with. He seized a spatula. Oh well. Better than nothing. "Stay back!" he shouted, brandishing it at Noel and Julian, who leapt away in alarm. "Yeah, you keep away!" Howard tried to haul Vince out of the kitchen again.

"Howard, get off!" Vince screeched. "You're mucking up my hair!"

"I'd sooner mess your hair up than have you sliced to bits!" Howard shouted. "We've got to go!"

"No!" Vince screamed. "No, I'm not going!" And with a sudden effort he broke away from Howard and rushed back into the middle of the room, to Noel.

"Vince!" Howard said. "You heard them, in your wardrobe! Saying they were trying to kill us!"

Noel and Julian both seemed to remember this particular comment at the same time, and they exchanged a look over Vince's head – a look that said, _How the hell are we going to explain this one?_

But they didn't have to.

"I must have got it wrong!" Vince said stubbornly.

"Vince!" Howard cried, despairingly. Vince couldn't really be willing to stay with a murderer because he wore nice boots – was that really why Vince wanted to stay? This was far more serious than Howard had thought. What if Vince didn't want to go home, either? What if he wanted to stay in this parallel world with a man with nice boots? If it was even just because of his boots any more…

"No," Vince said. "Howard, I got it wrong. Look, if they were murderers, why wouldn't they just have killed us last night?"

Howard stopped.

"They wouldn't have just left us to sleep," Vince said. "It's okay. They're tryin' to help."

-----

"I never knew Vince was capable of being that intelligent," Julian muttered.

They were outside Noel's house. Vince was skipping just ahead of them, excited because Noel had said he could see some of his other shoes. Howard was tagging behind.

"Neither did I," Noel muttered back, "But we shouldn't complain."

Julian nodded. "Let's just send them back… just get rid of them. Before they cause any serious misunderstandings."

Noel nodded.

"Hey!" a voice called, and they looked up to see Vince by the front door. "Let's go in!" he called, a giddy grin on his face.

Howard, behind them, groaned as he watched Noel go to unlock the front door. True, he'd had to agree with Vince that didn't seem very murderous to let them sleep all night without harming a hair on their heads. But he still knew there was something very, very wrong. Two men, who looked exactly like him and Vince, and who knew each other – even if they didn't seem to like each other very much; he'd heard them arguing the night before – there was no way this could be a coincidence.

Noel got his front door unlocked and they all trooped inside.

"I knew I'd like someone with a house like this," Vince whispered happily to Howard, hanging back a bit to wait for his friend. "Didn't I say that?"

"Yeah," said Howard tiredly. "Yeah, you did."

Julian and Noel were looking at each other. They had to get Howard and Vince upstairs and into the wardrobe.

"Vince," Noel started, "Do you want to –?"

"See your shoes?" Vince said eagerly, head jerking upwards like a puppy that was about to be played with.

"Yeah," Noel said.

"Course!" Vince leapt towards Noel excitedly. Noel had to step backwards to avoid getting landed on again.

"All right," he said. "C'mon, let's go upstairs."

"Come on, Howard!" Vince said, beckoning.

Howard groaned. He really, really didn't want to watch Vince trying on this man's stuff for the next three hours. But he didn't really see what else he could say. Besides, he didn't really want to leave Vince on his own. Just in case this wasn't all right…

And he could always drag Vince back through the wardrobe if anything went wrong.

So they all went upstairs. It was definitely the house they'd come out into. But this didn't help to calm Howard down at all. In fact, quite the reverse.

He noticed that Julian was glaring around the place too. He wondered what was the matter with him.

They reached Noel's bedroom. Vince was hopping up and down manically by this time. He didn't even need to be told to get into the wardrobe. He just ran straight for it, flung it open – and then stopped.

"Vince!" Howard, who hadn't even been in the bedroom before Vince rushed to find clothes, finally got through the door and realised what Vince is doing. "Careful!"

Vince didn't say anything. He just stood there.

"Is he okay?" Julian hissed to Noel.

"I dunno… um, Vince?"

No reply.

"Vince?" Noel went over to him.

"Vince!" Howard marched over and elbowed Noel out of the way. He wasn't going to let this man, with his bright blue eyes and layered hair, steal Vince from him. He needed to keep Vince grounded. Vince was in great danger of being swept off his feet by a fellow mod.

But when he got to the wardrobe, he could see why Vince wasn't moving.

"The portal's gone!"

"What?" Noel and Julian both yelled, rushing for the wardrobe.

"What do you mean, gone?" Noel was asking. "How can it be gone?"

"I can see the back of the wardrobe!" Howard yelled. "Look!" He reached through and, sure enough, his hand touched the back of the cupboard. Not the door back into Vince's room. The back of the cupboard.

"Oh shit," Noel muttered.

"How will we get home?" Vince asked, speaking for the first time. He reached out and grabbed Howard's arm, looking for reassurance.

They all groped at the back of the wardrobe, searching for anything that might be remotely door-like – or for something to activate the portal – anything. But there was nothing. It was an ordinary wardrobe.

"Fuck!" Noel exploded, kicking the wardrobe – reminding Howard very much of Vince kicking the ticket machine in the station.

Julian grabbed his arm. "Noel," he hissed, "What are we gonna do?"

Noel shook him off. "Don't look at me like this is my fault! I didn't do anything!"

"I know! But they're stuck here! Noel, we have to hide them. We can't risk anyone seeing them."

"What, we just hide two people for the rest of our lives? Oh sure, that's gonna work."

"You got a better idea?"

Noel scowled, but he didn't. He glanced back at Vince, who was sucking his finger anxiously, and Howard, who was still fumbling around in his wardrobe…

"Oi!" he yelled suddenly, leaping towards the wardrobe. "Mind that jacket! It used to belong to Freddie Mercury!"

Julian groaned. Things were going from bad to worse, and something told him they would only continue downhill from here.

* * *

**Phew! That was quite long. Sorry.**

**Thanks for reading.**

**violence x**


	7. Naboo

**Something a lot more cheery than my other story...**

**Notes:  
- In case anyone's confused about the timing in this chapter, let's verify: we start the day Howard and Vince are in Noel's house when they find out the portal's closed; next day is the day Naboo comes home; day after that is the day Naboo and Bollo go through the wardrobe.  
- I have no idea how many Euros a newspaper would normally cost so I made it up. I'm probably wrong but hey ho.  
****- I also couldn't remember the name of the village where Old Gregg lives so, yeah. Blah.**

**Disclaimers: I don't own the Boosh. I don't own Noel and Julian either. They own themselves and the Boosh as well. However, they don't own Mike... as far as I know. I guess he owns himself.**

**

* * *

**

Chapter Seven

_"I'm Naboo, that's who"_

Julian took Howard outside the bedroom. He thought it was more likely that Howard would listen to him. He'd noticed Howard glaring at Noel, and he didn't really blame him. He felt like glaring at Noel himself, and not just because of everything that had been going on with them. He should have known that Noel would be a bit bowled over by himself.

They left Noel in the bedroom with Vince. "What am I s'posed to do with him?" Noel had hissed.

"Entertain him. You must know how. He's you."

"How do I entertain myself?"

"I don't know, find a shiny object or a mirror and give it to him; he'll be occupied for hours," Julian said, and left. He could almost feel that Noel was looking daggers at him as he did.

Howard was already waiting outside, looking very nervous.

"Right," said Julian, closing the door so they wouldn't be distracted by anything that might happen in Noel's bedroom – whatever that might be, Julian thought, suddenly worried he would go back in and find Noel and Vince making out on the bed. That would certainly be a way to keep Vince entertained…

He shook himself and focused on Howard. "Look," he said, "I think we're going to need to go away for a few days, to sort this out…"

"Go away where?" Howard asked.

"I'm not sure – somewhere. A hotel or something, somewhere inconspicuous. We need to hide."

"Why?"

Julian had been dreading this part. He wondered, briefly, whether he should tell Howard the truth about why it was that he and Noel looked so similar to him and Vince, but decided this would be a very bad idea. He didn't fancy having to deal with someone who'd just found out they only existed because they were a character in a comedy show. Actually, it was a very weird idea. Julian didn't think he'd react particularly well to being told that, which must mean Howard wouldn't either. But he needed Howard – and Vince – to co-operate, before things went wrong and someone saw him with Howard or Noel with Vince or something.

"Well, you may have noticed, we look kind of…"

"Similar," Howard finished. It was a statement, not a suggestion. He gave Julian a look that said, "Of course I noticed."

Julian didn't think he'd ever get used to seeing his own face, his own expressions, on someone else. "Yes," he said, "And –"

"Why?" Howard asked suddenly.

"What?"

"Why? I mean, what's going on? Why do you and your friend – Noel –"

"We're not exactly friends…"

Howard nodded. "Well, why do…?"

"I don't know," Julian lied. "We don't have people appearing from parallel worlds all the time here, you know." At least that part was true.

Howard seemed to accept this.

"So," said Julian, "We need to make sure no-one sees me with you, or Noel with Vince, or anything like that. We need to lie low until we work out how to send you home." He waited and looked at Howard expectantly. There was a pause.

Then Howard nodded slowly. "All right…"

Julian breathed out with relief.

Howard, for his part, didn't really see what else they could do. They couldn't go home. He certainly didn't want to get caught up in all sorts of confusions in this parallel world that was puzzling enough without people constantly mistaking him for someone who actually lived in it. They would have to wait until they could find a way to get back to their world, and then they could deal with the problem of why everything was falling to pieces. Naboo would probably have returned by then and he might have some answers from the Board of Shamen.

All of this seemed so bizarre, but Howard was finding he was having to think about parallel universes and gateways between worlds as though they were everyday things. He didn't like it very much. He was used to getting into weird situations, but this was pushing it a bit, even by the standards of the adventures he and Vince usually had.

-----

Noel sighed as the bedroom door closed. He rubbed his eyes. He hadn't had much sleep last night – and now he had himself standing in his bedroom.

He turned round to Vince, who was looking anxiously at the wardrobe.

"Don't worry," he said, hoping he sound jaunty and carefree. "We'll work out something."

Vince nodded. He still seemed concerned – for about two minutes, and then he spotted one of Noel's hats perched on his dressing table and decided he wanted to try it on. Noel let him because he thought it was better for Vince to be distracted. He hoped Vince realised how lucky he was. Not just anyone got to wear those hats.

Vince certainly seemed pleased with it. He put the hat on and grinned and pouted at himself in the mirror. Noel watched him. Vince really did have the bluest eyes – and then he remembered they were his eyes. Oh well. They were nice.

Vince suddenly caught his eye in the mirror, and smiled. Noel smiled back.

Vince eventually got bored of the hat, and decided wanted to look at the rest of Noel's stuff. He examined all his make-up and hair products, stroking the objects as though they were holy. He ran his hand over Noel's pillow (Noel thought that was quite intimate but he wasn't really sure how to explain this to Vince so he kept quiet).

He turned away from watching Vince look at the pictures on his bedroom walls to close his eyes and wonder what the hell they were going to do. How would they get Howard and Vince out of here? They couldn't stay here. That would be wrong. Just – wrong. But how could they sort this mess out, when they didn't even know what had caused it?

And he didn't want to have to spend loads of time with – well. It would just be awkward, given that they were officially ending things in six days.

At that moment, the door handle turned. Julian must have finished explaining things to Howard.

"Ooh, look!" a voice piped up.

Noel turned, to see Vince holding a photo in his hands.

"Look at what?" Howard asked, as he and Julian came back in.

"Look!" Vince said, holding up the photo. He grinned at Noel. "It's you and –"

Oh God. Noel knew which photo that was.

"Put that down!" He jumped across the room, snatched the photograph from Vince, and quickly put it face-down on the bed.

Vince looked confused, as well he might. But Noel couldn't really explain, with Julian standing right there, that he didn't want Julian knowing he still had a photo of them together by his bed…

"All sorted?" he asked, turning round, grinning rather stupidly (he knew this because he caught sight of himself in the mirror. He also caught sight of Vince behind him, looking at his legs. Noel wasn't quite sure what to feel about that).

-----

_The next day._

**Mysterious explosion in fishing village** read the headline on the paper.

"How much?" asked Naboo, hovering on his magic carpet by the newspaper vendor's stand.

"5 Euros."

Naboo handed over the money and took the paper. "C'mon, Bollo," he said, turning to his familiar, who was sitting on the back of his carpet. "Let's get home now."

The carpet swooped away over the streets. Naboo sighed. The Board of Shamen hadn't drawn any conclusions about what was going on, and there was still no sign of Saboo or Tony Harrison. Not that Naboo particularly cared about either of them but even so, it wasn't normal for shamen to disappear like this. And coupled with everything else that had been happening… He sighed again and opened the paper.

_Last night, a mysterious explosion occurred in a fishing town, leaving several dead and many injured._

_The blast took place in the early hours of the morning, when most of the residents were sleeping. As a result, there were few witnesses to the disaster._

_Police say they are at a loss to explain the explosion, which seems to have occurred in the Black Lake, the large body of water close to the town._

_Most of the residents were too afraid to comment, but one barman is quoted as saying, "This could be the work of Old Gregg!" Old Gregg is the name given to a sea monster that locals believe lurks in the depths of the lake…_

"Naboo!"

Naboo looked up. "What is it, Bollo?"

"Look at the shop!"

Naboo did.

All the windows were broken. The door had fallen in.

"Oh, no!" Naboo jumped off the carpet almost before it had landed, staggering a bit, and ran towards the store.

Inside, it was worse. The wallpaper was peeling off the walls. The back door seemed to have totally disappeared. Some of the stock was gone too.

Bollo appeared in the door. "What happened?" he asked.

"I dunno," Naboo said, very worried now. "C'mon…" He hurried up the stairs to the flat. "Vince! Howard!"

There was no reply.

"Vince!" Naboo called, running to the mod's bedroom. He thumped on the door. "Vince, are you in there?"

Bollo hurried to Howard's room. "Idiot? Waste of space? In there?"

"Vince isn't here, Bollo!" Naboo called from down the corridor.

Bollo shoved open Howard's bedroom door. "No. No Howard either. Not a loss –"

"Bollo! We need to know what happened! This is really dangerous! They might have vanished like Dixon Bainbridge."

"Bainbridge not a loss either –"

"Shut up, Bollo, you ball bag, or –" And then Naboo suddenly seized up.

"Naboo?" Bollo called.

He came down the corridor to Vince's room to find Naboo standing rigid, swaying a bit, clinging to the door frame.

"Oh. Trance." The gorilla stood back and waited expectantly, in case Naboo said anything useful. Sometimes he didn't – sometimes he'd just start talking about chips or strange late-night television programmes – but you never could tell.

"Something breaking…" Naboo rasped suddenly. "Tearing apart…"

"You said before," Bollo muttered, quietly, so as not to break the trance.

"Something breaking…" Naboo's voice got louder. "Breaking… breaking… breaking…" And he took a sudden, jerking step forwards, one arm shooting upwards, like a puppet whose strings had been pulled too hard. He jolted into Vince's room.

"What?" Bollo asked, hurrying after him. "Where?"

"Breaking… breaking…" Naboo suddenly raised a finger, almost violently.

"Where?" Bollo followed where Naboo was pointing. "No, Naboo. That Vince's wardrobe."

"Breaking… _breaking…_"

Bollo went to the wardrobe, because his master seemed so insistent – and anyway, you never could tell with Naboo's trances – and opened it.

Naboo writhed backwards as he did, as though a wind had swept out of the cupboard. But Bollo had felt nothing. "Naboo?"

"_Breaking…_"

Bollo peered into the wardrobe. "There's nothing…"

But Naboo suddenly fell forwards, crashing onto his knees as he came into the wardrobe. His hands smacked up against the back and a huge shudder ran through him. He gasped – and then suddenly his eyes blinked twice, and he was back.

"Oh God, Bollo…" he mumbled, attempting to stand up, and straightening his turban.

"What happened?" Bollo asked. "You kept saying breaking, breaking…"

Naboo, still kneeling in the wardrobe, peered at the back of it.

"There was something here," he said suddenly. "A gateway. A gateway to – to something."

"What?"

"I don't know – it was here – it's closed. Things are unstable." Naboo looked up at his familiar. "I think Vince and Howard went through it. They're trapped in wherever it was the gateway went to."

"Bollo not care about Howard," said the gorilla. "But precious Vince, trapped in another world?"

"I don't know if it's another world, Bollo, but I think they're in there."

"Can you open it?"

Naboo nodded. He still seemed a bit disorientated after his trance. "I can, but only briefly. I can use magic to make a link between here and the place this was connected to – it'll take a while but I think I can do it… I'll need my books; Bollo, I'll need your help…"

-----

_Next morning._

It took a long time to find the right combination of spells. But, next morning, Naboo and Bollo were back in Vince's bedroom.

Naboo had one of his largest books open in front of him. "Right," he said.

Bollo nodded.

Naboo stood up, heaving the book with him. Bollo helped him, because Naboo was a bit too small to manage it properly.

"Bollo," said Naboo, looking seriously at his familiar, "Once I've opened the gap, we'll only have a couple of minutes to get through before it closes again. I can't keep it open any longer than that, with things so unstable." His eyes glazed a little. "I can feel how unstable it is…" Then he blinked. "We need to get through and find Howard and Vince. We'll bring the book. Once we find them, I'll open another gap, somewhere else so it won't be as fragile, and we'll get home."

"So much trouble," grumbled Bollo.

"I know," said Naboo. "When we find them, I might have to turn my back on them."

There was a short pause.

"Right," said Naboo. "Hold onto me, Bollo. I'm not quite sure what's going to happen."

He raised the book and began to chant.

The lights buzzed, flickered, and then went.

The room darkened.

The floor seemed to rock. There was a roaring noise. The wardrobe began to glow. Bollo clung onto Naboo, to stop him falling over as the vibrations increased. Naboo held the book up, raising his voice as the roaring got louder, louder, louder – then there was a flash.

Everything went still.

Naboo and Bollo steadied themselves and looked at the wardrobe. A blue light was glowing at the back.

"It's open!" Naboo cried. "Quick!" And the shaman and the gorilla rushed into Vince's wardrobe, past all his clothes, heaving the book with them. They ran through the blue light, running until they hit the other side.

"What is it?"

"It's a door, Bollo – find the handle, quick!"

Bollo fumbled around, found the door handle, and flung open the door.

He and Naboo staggered out into a bedroom, Naboo falling over in the scramble. Moments later, there was another flash, and when they turned round, all they saw was an ordinary wardrobe.

"So much trouble!" Bollo said again.

Naboo picked himself up, clutching his book. He looked around. "Where are we?"

"Looks like a bedroom," Bollo said. "Not so strange."

"I know," said Naboo. He peered at his book. "I was expecting something a bit – stranger. Something that could be causin' all the problems back home." He was looking around. "Mind you… I dunno, Bollo… it's weird here. It feels familiar. I'm not why…"

"Naboo," said Bollo sharply. "Have to find Vince."

"Oh yeah," said Naboo, coming back into himself. "Vince and Howard."

"Huh! Howard!" grunted Bollo, opening the door.

Naboo was about to follow Bollo, when he noticed something lying on the bed. He went over and picked it up.

"Naboo?" Bollo called, after about a minute waiting in the corridor outside the bedroom and no sign that his master was following him. He went back into the bedroom, to find Naboo standing by the bed, holding a photograph frame in his hands – and staring. His brown eyes were wide with shock.

"What?" Bollo asked, realising instantly that something was very wrong. It took a lot to shake Naboo.

"Look," Naboo said, turning the photograph frame round.

Bollo peered at the picture.

"Vince and Howard," he said.

"What's a photo of them doin' in this house?" Naboo wondered aloud.

"Dunno."

"This is weird, Bollo," Naboo said. "I don't know what's going on but it's weird. And I'm pickin' up strange feelings in this house. Things are breaking here too. So much tension. And it all feels so familiar…" He put a hand to his forehead. "I can't put my finger on what it is."

"Come on," said Bollo, pushing Naboo gently. "Let's go find Vince. Maybe that help explain."

"Okay." Naboo allowed Bollo to nudge him out of the room – but he kept the photograph with him.

They went out into the corridor. There didn't seem to be anyone in the house. They walked down the stairs, straining their ears, but there was no sign of anybody.

"Think it empty," Bollo said, as they passed the living room.

"Good thing too," Naboo said, still distracted by the mysterious photograph. "Otherwise they'd have heard –"

_Briiing!_

Naboo and Bollo both jumped and clutched each other. Then they both leapt apart, embarrassed.

"What that sound?" Bollo muttered, as quietly as he could.

"I think – I think it's a doorbell," Naboo muttered, wiping his brow with the back of his hand and touching his turban to make sure it was still straight.

"Fine," Bollo told him, checking it for him.

"Good."

_Briiing!_

"We'll just stay quiet. They'll go away."

Bollo nodded.

_Briiing!_

"No-one here," Bollo growled.

"Shh, Bollo. They'll leave when they realise there isn't anyone answering."

But the person outside wasn't giving up. A moment later, there was a rattling sound, and a voice suddenly called into the house: "Noel?"

"They're inside!"

"Shh! Nah, think they're just calling through the letter box," Naboo said, peering down the hall towards the front door.

"Noel, are you in there? I've been tryin' to call you. You 'aven't answered your phone in 'bout two days."

Naboo and Bollo waited.

"Noel, come on. It's just me. I know you're there."

Naboo and Bollo stayed quiet.

"Noel… is this door open?" There was another rattling, and then: "Don't you lock your front door? Look, I'm comin' in, okay?"

"Quick, Bollo!" Naboo hissed, horrified. They rushed into the living room, looked around frantically, spotted a table with a table cloth over it that reached the floor, and dived underneath that.

Footsteps came up the corridor. "Noel? Noel, where are you?"

Naboo put his finger to his lips. Bollo nodded – and then coughed loudly.

"Bollo!" Naboo gasped.

"Sorry," said the gorilla.

"Noel?"

The footsteps came into the living room.

"What do we do?" Bollo hissed.

"Shh. I got some shaman powder." Naboo fumbled in his robes.

"Noel, are you hiding under the table?" The footsteps drew closer. "Noel, it's just me. It's Mike. Come on…" The footsteps stopped. The shadows of someone's legs were visible against the cloth on the table.

Naboo and Bollo stayed still and silent, tensing everything. Naboo held up his hand, telling Bollo to wait for his signal.

"Noel…?" The shadow of a man bent towards the hem of the table cloth. Fingers appeared underneath, grasping – and then flung the cloth back.

Naboo leapt up instantly and blew his shaman powder in the man's face.

The man gasped, coughing, and staggered backwards, losing his balance and falling to the floor. He looked up to see a small shape in blue robes and a turban rising, face totally deadpan, out from under the table, a furry mass struggling up behind it. His mouth dropped.

"Who are you?" gasped the man, white in the face.

"I'm Naboo, that's who," replied Naboo. "Go, Bollo!" And he and the gorilla sprinted past the fallen man, who seemed unable to move, out of the living room, down the hall, and out of the room door, which the man had left open. They went on sprinting down the road, round the corner, round another corner, on and on – until finally they both had to stop.

"Bollo – need – join – gym –" gasped the gorilla.

Naboo bent over, clutching his knees.

Then he suddenly straightened up. "Oh, no!"

"What?"

-----

Back at the house, the fallen man finally managed to move. He edged slowly forwards. His heart thundered against his ribs. He was shaking.

And then he noticed something under the table. Slowly, agonisingly slowly, he reached out, nerves making him feel ill. He grasped the something and pulled it out.

It was a massive book. A book he'd seen before. But this book wasn't a prop that he carried around sometimes. This book seemed to be real.

* * *

**Teehee.**

**Thanks for reading.**

**violence x**


	8. If you hadn't been with me

**Okay! Sorry this has taken a while, but mocks have made me very tired...**

**Disclaimers:  
The Boosh is owned by Julian Barratt and Noel Fielding, who also own themselves.  
"Goodbye To You" is by Michelle Branch (who I don't like, but I heard one of my friends playing that song and thought it was really appropriate).  
Starbucks is not mine. Dunno whose it is but it's not mine.  
The joke Noel tells Vince, I dunno who made it up, but I didn't.  
The bit in the car at the beginning comes from a suggestion by Lizzi (LixiPixi) to have a travelling bit. Thankies.**

**Notes:  
I have up-ed the rating to "T" for the language that this whole story contains, and for weirdness coming in a few chapters (you have been warned!).  
Also, you get a nice bit of Julian angst in this chapter. Everyone seemed to like the Noel angst so I thought I'd give you this as well. Please note: what I say about Noel is NOT my personal feelings. As far as I know they aren't really Julian's, either... I have based the bits about them before they were famous on stuff I've read in interviews but fleshed it out with my imagination.  
But Julian really does like Gary Numan (watch the Making Of on Series 3 DVD).**

**Now, let's go. This chapter is dedicated to everyone who enjoyed the Noel angst in chapter 5.**

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

**_"You know you'd never have got anywhere if you hadn't been with me"_**

They rode in the car in silence. They didn't know where they were going. Somewhere, anywhere, far away from places people might see them all together.

Julian drove. It was his car they had gone to Noel's house in.

It had been awkward deciding who was going to sit where. Noel made it very clear that he didn't want to go in the front next to his former friend (apart from anything else – not that he told the others this – it reminded him of the times before all of this, when they had driven in Julian's car and played Gary Numan at an anti-social volume and laughed madly about jokes they weren't even sure then that other people would find funny, and it had been… good).

Howard, seeing Noel scowling, was going to suggest that he went in the front next to Julian – but then realised that this would mean Vince was in the back with Noel, and Howard might not be able to keep an eye on him properly because he'd have to turn round to look at him.

So, in the end, Vince went in the front next to Julian, and Howard sat in the back by Noel. Julian didn't look particularly happy about this. Neither did Vince – he had been hoping he might get to sit next to Noel. "Sitting next to Noel Fielding!" he thought. "Who is Noel Fielding? Why is he famous? But he's still Noel Fielding and I could sit next to him! Genius!" (Although he managed to console himself by thinking that he was still driving in a car with Noel Fielding, which, he thought, was more than most people could say – or at least, he assumed it was.) Noel seemed to find everything irritating – or maybe, Howard thought worriedly, he just wanted to sit next to Vince. He put his feet up on the back of the seat in front of him and slumped down like a stroppy teenager.

Howard didn't think very much of him. He'd thought Vince was bad. At least Vince was made of sunshine. Noel was like an anti-Vince: made of rain clouds.

Did that mean that Julian was an anti-Howard? He didn't really seem it. In fact, he seemed exactly like Howard as he drove them, looking both rather irritatedly and rather resignedly at his passengers.

Vince got out his pocket mirror and started touching up his eyeliner. He didn't seem to care that they could be trapped in a parallel world forever.

Howard, however, cared very much. And he was starting to feel more and more alarmed as they went away from Noel's house, where the wardrobe, which still felt like a connection to home even if the portal had closed, was.

Suppose the portal had only been meant to open for a few days and now it was closed and would never re-open? Suppose they never got home?

He didn't even want to think it, but the further and further they drove – Julian didn't really seem to have any idea where they were going – the more and more the feeling developed that they might be trapped here.

-----

They did eventually find a hotel to stay in.

It was small, and smelt suspicious – damp, and something else that nobody was too keen to try and put a name to.

Julian went in to get the rooms, with a hood up so nobody would recognise him. Howard, Vince and Noel waited in the car.

Vince turned round in his seat and grinned at Noel.

Howard noticed Noel was watching him all the while as Julian came back, told them the rooms were available, and they had to sneak in. All the while they hurried through reception with their heads lowered, Noel's eyes were on Vince's feet.

Howard didn't like this at all. Vince was a bit too stupid to get anything done. Noel seemed cleverer. More calculating. What if he tried to draw Vince into something? Vince wouldn't think about the possible consequences, and Howard didn't like to imagine what could happen…

They had two rooms, next door to each other.

Howard didn't ask whether it was awkward for Noel and Julian to share a room, as they obviously hated each other (he still didn't know why), because he didn't want to give Noel and Vince any opportunity to be in beds anywhere near each other.

Vince, fortunately, didn't seem to think about this. In fact, he seemed to be having the time of his life.

"I love sharing bedrooms!" he squealed, like a ten-year-old, when they were getting ready to sleep that night.

"What?" Howard groaned.

"It's like a sleepover!"

"God, you really are ridiculous, Vince. You know that?"

Vince giggled and leapt up onto his bed. "Check this out!" And he started bouncing on the mattress.

"Vince! Stop it! If you break the springs we'll have to pay for it!"

Vince just laughed and bounced harder.

"Right!" Howard got out of his own bed and marched over to Vince's. He attempted to seize his smaller friend and make him lie down, but Vince jumped on top of him, and Howard ended up with his head pinned down near the pillow and Vince sitting on his shoulders.

"Ouch!"

"Serves you right."

"Let me up now, or I'll –"

"What?"

"I'll come at you! Like – like –"

"Like someone's who's pinned down to a bed?" Vince asked, still laughing, but he let Howard up. He grinned at Howard's messed-up hair, and then noticed his expression. "Aw, c'mon, Howard. I'm just playin'."

"So I noticed," Howard grumbled, "But what you _haven't_ noticed is that this really isn't the right time to play, Vince."

Vince laughed again – but he reached out and patted Howard's arm. "Don't stress so much. You'll end up givin' yourself Chinese burns again, and you've been off that for about six months now."

Howard glared. "That was never a serious thing!"

"So you say," said Vince, "But I used to see you, every day pretty much, grabbin' at your own arms. We can't have that again, can we?"

"Yeah, well," Howard huffed, "If we do, it'll be your fault. You'll drive me to it."

"I won't mean to," Vince said, suddenly looking upset.

Howard softened at the earnest expression in his big blue eyes. Vince had a habit of looking at people and making them melt. "I know you won't, little man. I was just teasing. Let's get some sleep, yeah?"

Vince looked happy again. The use of the old nickname had confirmed that he was still liked. He burrowed into his duvet while Howard went back to his own bed. He reached out and flicked off the lights. For a few seconds, there was silence.

Then:

"Howard?"

Howard sighed.

"Yeah?"

"Are we gonna be all right?"

Howard hesitated. This was a similar situation to Vince asking if Julian's house was okay. He didn't want to lie – but at the same time he didn't want Vince getting frightened. "Why?" he asked himself silently. Vince was an adult. Why shouldn't he be able to deal with things exactly the same way as other adults – adults like Howard – dealt with them? But the urge to protect Vince was always there. Perhaps it was those blue eyes. The thought of them losing their shine was almost unbearable…

"Don't worry about it, little man."

For a few moments, Howard expected Vince to see through him and say, "That's not an answer!" But he didn't. Probably he was tired. Or just being stupid. Instead, all he said was a faint, sleepy, "'Kay", and Howard heard him roll over.

Well, he thought, I'm glad one of us can sleep…

-----

Next morning, Howard woke up to one good thing and one bad thing.

The good thing was that Vince had obviously stopped worrying about what was going to happen to them (which was good because it would leave Howard to try and work things out without Vince's simple interruptions, and also because, as he'd thought last night, Howard hated the thought of Vince being hurt).

The bad thing was the reason that Vince had obviously stopped worrying.

"You like the Stones, too?"

"Yeah… went to see 'em live, actually, couple of months ago…"

"Oh my…! You saw 'em live?"

"Yeah, it was brilliant."

"I'd kill to see 'em live."

Two cockney voices disturbed Howard's sleep.

For a few moments he thought he was back home, in the flat, and that it was a Sunday, and Vince was chatting to Naboo, and Bollo was be making breakfast, and there was no need to get up to open the shop…

But then he realised that the other voice wasn't Naboo's.

In fact, it was Vince's. They were both Vince's voice.

"Yeah, I almost had to – had to beat these guys half to death with me hair straightners to get the tickets…"

Vince's happy laughter was a lovely sound – but Howard felt his hands clench into fists at the thought of _who_ it was making him laugh.

He dragged himself out of bed and staggered through to the next door room, which contained two rather uncomfortable-looking sofas and a television.

Vince, fully dressed and made-up, his hair looking extra shiny from an early morning wash, was sitting, knees tucked eagerly under his chin, on the sofa. And – yes – Noel, looking like Vince after a heavy night (clothes not quite as sparkly) was straddling the arm of the sofa, looking at Vince as though he was made not of sunshine, but of strawberries and cream.

They both looked up when Howard came crashing through the door.

"Morning, Howard!" Vince sang, seeing who it was.

"Morning," Howard muttered, feeling distinctly uncomfortable with the looks Noel was giving him: looks that were half disgust and half amusement. He knew he wasn't that presentable in his underwear but he didn't have any other pyjamas, did he? If he'd known they were going on this little trip he might have worn his utility suit (he'd had the zips fixed) but it wasn't as though this had been planned…

"Howard!" Vince said, "Noel saw the Stones live!"

"Yeah, so I heard," Howard muttered.

"How genius is that?"

"Yes, yes, it's very genius, Vince," Howard said. Noel was still looking at him. He wondered whether to ask, "What?", but he felt too awkward. So he shuffled off to get dressed. He was getting a bit sick of wearing the same clothes: he hadn't changed them for two days now. But that was, he thought, the least of his worries.

-----

Vince didn't have the problem of only having one pair of clothes (if he had, the whole hotel would have known about it from his screams of horror at not being able to change his outfit). Noel had brought some clothes from his house, and he let Vince borrow some of the stuff he wasn't wearing.

The clothes were somehow especially exciting because they belonged to Noel. Vince paraded around the room, posing for him, and Noel grinned and pretended to applaud. Vince gave a mock bow.

Julian, who was sitting across the room, glared at them. He had tried, earlier that morning, to get Noel to engage in a discussion about what they were going to do, but Noel was distracted. Well, Noel was always distracted, by something or other. This time, he seemed to be distracted by himself. He seemed to be enjoying being able to look at himself without needing a mirror.

Howard was still in the bedroom, with a chair against the door, giving himself Chinese burns.

Vince went to the full length mirror in the bathroom to admire himself, yet again. He turned this way and that, looking at himself from every angle. He loved these clothes. They were perhaps not quite as shiny as what Vince normally wore, but Vince thought he looked brilliant in them. Slightly classier, maybe. Less obvious, but still extremely sexy. Sophisticated. These weren't things that Vince had ever thought to look before. He'd never even thought about wanting to look them. But Noel did look a bit like him (although Vince thought Noel was better-looking), and he did look awesome… but maybe it felt a bit sacrilegious to completely steal your idol's style.

Vince didn't know. To be honest, he wasn't used to admiring people. He got admired, that was all. Mick Jagger was the closest he had to an idol (or had been the closest). Perhaps Gary Numan. But those were just people Vince thought were cool. They weren't people he really aspired to be, because Vince Noir didn't need to aspire to be like anybody; he was perfect as he was.

Or so he had thought. But suddenly he was feeling self-conscious. In the bathroom, out of view of everyone, he touched his hair, wondering whether it looked all right, whether it was out of place. He was feeling nervous in ways he hadn't thought it was possible for him to feel nervous. His stomach was knotted and he was acutely aware of every movement he made. Acutely aware of his own body. Vince didn't do being aware of his own body; he just did making other people aware of it. But now…

This was getting dangerously close to deep thoughts and feelings for Vince, and so he went back into the main room. Except he realised as he did, perhaps that was a mistake – perhaps if he wanted to stop feeling like this he should steer clear of the others – perhaps he should steer clear of Noel…

But then, in a weird way, he sort of liked feeling like this.

He went back into the other room.

Noel looked up at him and smiled, and Vince fizzed inside happily. He went and joined Noel on the sofa. Julian was watching them again.

Vince wondered if maybe he was just shy, like Howard. Howard often got angry when he couldn't talk to people and Vince could. Perhaps this was why Julian didn't seem to like Noel.

Vince gave Julian his biggest smile, to let him know he was about to talk to him, and said, "D'you like Gary Numan?"

Okay, perhaps that was a stupid thing to ask someone who looked like Howard, but Vince wasn't too good at thinking of openers, and that one usually worked.

For a few moments there was silence. Very awkward silence. Silence that half threatened to erupt into laughter, and half threatened, in a way that was perhaps worse, to just hang there, and not get broken.

Then Julian said, "Yeah…"

"You do?" Vince was amazed. "Really?"

"Yeah."

This was weird. This was like Howard announcing he liked Gary Numan. But Vince wasn't the type to let surprises faze him for long. He grinned giddily. "I love Gary Numan. But Howard, he doesn't really… You guys both like Gary Numan?" He glanced at Noel.

Both Noel and Julian suddenly seemed embarrassed. They both muttered vague affirmations and looked at the floor.

Vince didn't understand why.

So he started singing, "Here in my car, I feel safest of all…"

After a few moments, Noel, unable to resist Gary Numan, joined in: "I can lock all my doors…"

Vince beamed, thrilled to be singing with Noel Fielding, who was famous even if Vince wasn't quite sure why, went on, the two identical voices blending like an effect on a record: "It's the only way to live, in cars…"

And once the first verse was done, Julian nervously joined in too: "Here in my car, I can only receive…"

Vince grinned and jumped off the sofa, skipping round the room and belting out the song: "I can listen to you…" And Noel and Julian carried on singing with him, not looking at each other, but still singing together.

Howard, in the bedroom, heard three voices all singing: "Here in my car, where the image breaks down, will you visit me please, if I open my door, in cars? Here in my car…"

He groaned. Everyone else in this hotel room was crazy.

-----

"Noel, I'm going to bed, all right?"

It was later. Much later. They'd been in the hotel room all day and it was starting to get stuffy. Room services dishes that hadn't been collected yet lay around.

Howard was in the bedroom, again. He'd only emerged to eat. He kept his eyes down and didn't speak. Vince had been slightly worried, but he didn't really care. He and Noel and Julian had talked a lot about Gary Numan. Well. He and Noel had talked a lot about Gary Numan. He and Julian had exchanged a couple of sentences about Gary Numan. Noel and Julian hadn't actually spoken directly to each other, but Vince thought things had seemed less awkward after their sing-song earlier. All thanks to the healing power of "Cars", he thought cheerfully.

Now he and Noel were sitting on the sofa, again, looking out the window.

"What?" Noel asked, turning round.

Julian was by the door. "I'm going back to our room… um, I'll leave the door for you…"

"Okay."

There was a short pause.

Today had been the first time in a long time they had been in the same room without biting each other's heads off.

"Goodnight then," Julian said shortly.

"'Night."

Julian left, with a soft click of the door, almost unacknowledged – but somehow missed after he'd left.

Vince was looking at London. He hadn't seen anything like this before. The lights seemed to float above the ground, shimmering orange, with blue and green buildings glowing neon off in the distance where the skyscrapers were.

Noel, not wanting to think at all about Julian, looked at his face in profile, lit up by the sky glow. The shadows made his pointed face look razor sharp, dark just under one big blue eye, slanting gold across his soft lips… soft lips…

Noel felt a sudden urge to stroke Vince's fringe. Just to let one strand brush under his finger. He could do that any time, of course. Just reach up and touch his own head. But somehow, Vince was starting to feel as though he was separate. As though he was different. Because he was different, Noel thought. Noel himself wasn't so ditzy, wasn't so oblivious. Noel hoped he would have noticed there was something going on if he was in Vince's situation, but Vince didn't seem to. And Vince had different hair… hair that Noel would have quite liked to touch…

"Pretty," Vince said suddenly.

_Yes; yes, you are… you are…_ "What is?" Noel asked.

"London. Your London," Vince said, rather dreamily, like he was hypnotised by the city night. He turned to look at Noel. "Hey, Noel?"

"Hmm?"

"You're famous, aren't you?"

Noel laughed.

"What?" Vince asked.

Noel shrugged, unable to explain. "Well… I guess you could say that."

Vince was looking at him full on now, the lights making shining pricks in his eyes. The shadows went sideways over his features. "Are you a rock star?"

Oh God, this was that urge again… normally the urge you got from a pretty young girl, Noel thought… the urge to play yourself up, the celebrity, the one everyone wanted… "No," he said. "No, I'm not. I'm… I'm on television."

"Cool," Vince said.

There was a pause.

"Noel?"

"Yes?"

"You and Julian…"

"What about us?" Noel asked, suddenly not sure if he wanted this conversation to continue.

"Is that how you guys know each other? Is he on the telly too?"

Noel didn't want to talk about this. But the shining eyes that hero-worshipped him… "Yeah. Yeah, we… we did a show together for a bit," he said, nonchalantly rubbing his neck, as though it meant nothing.

"Wow. What kinda show?"

"Um, comedy stuff…" Noel was surprised at himself. Given the feelings he was having about wanting to show off, he'd thought he'd play things up a lot more. But perhaps that was because he couldn't really launch into a huge description of it without Vince realising it was a little too similar to his own life.

And also because it meant nothing now.

Or it wasn't meant to.

"Genius!" Vince said. "I love stuff that makes me laugh; tell us a joke, then!"

Noel's mind whirled. All his jokes were centred around Vince. That's who he was on the show…

Don't be stupid, his brain hissed. You can still work without the show, without Vince. You don't need the show. You don't need any of it. It's just something you once acted and now you can…

Except Vince wasn't something he'd once acted. He was sitting in front of him, pulsing with life, skin dyed beautifully by the London lights, eyes still so big, smiling at Noel as though Noel was a god…

He wanted a joke.

"Okay, um, there's a bear, and a bunny rabbit…"

Vince settled back, grinning.

"And they live in the forest, yeah, and they're always, like, gettin' at each other; you know, always arguin'."

"Sounds a bit like me and Howard sometimes," Vince said.

Noel wished he hadn't said that. "And then, yeah, one day, they meet this wizard…"

"Or a shaman!"

Noel started a bit at the mention of the shaman.

"Yeah," he said. "I guess, it could be a shaman… anyway, they meet him and he says he'll grant each one of 'em three wishes, right?" Noel could tell he sounded like an eight-year-old trying to make other kids laugh in the playground. "And the bear says, I wish all the bears in this wood were female, and the mouse says he wants a crash helmet. Then the bear says, I wish all the bears in the next wood were female, and the mouse says he wants a motorbike. And then the bear says –"

"Howard looks a bit like a bear," Vince said suddenly.

There was silence.

"Noel?" Vince asked suddenly. "Noel, you okay? What's the matter? Noel, are you feelin' all right? Don't go to bed… you haven't finished the joke…"

Noel, off the sofa now, spun round, "The bear says, I wish all the bears in the world were female. And the mouse says, I wish the bear was gay! That's the joke." Vince was looking bewildered. His confusion somehow made it worse. "That's the joke! The bear's just doing his thing and the mouse is tryin' to be all clever, putting him down, like the little bastard he is…"

"What?" Vince asked.

"I reckon the bear deserved it, though… reckon he was a right prick…"

"What?" Vince asked again, looking quite scared.

"Oh, nothing…" Noel sighed.

"Noel?"

"What?"

"Are you going to bed?"

Noel wanted to go to bed. But then he remembered that Julian was in the bedroom.

"No." He sat back down on the sofa.

There was total silence.

"You know something?" Vince said.

"What?"

Vince laughed, suddenly seeming shy. "Well, I went in this bar, and they thought I was you."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. Imagine that. Someone thought I was Noel Fielding."

Noel looked at him. "You think that's cool?" He wasn't sure if he said this angrily, angry that someone could think things like that about him when he was so – so – or whether he was pleased.

"I think it's awesome." Vince yawned a bit. Then he slumped over and leaned his head on Noel's shoulder, snuggling against him so his hair brushed Noel's neck.

They stayed sitting like that for a long time.

-----

But Noel's bad mood didn't bode well for the next morning. When Vince woke up, he found Howard sitting on the bed, ear to the wall.

"Morning," he said. "What were you up to yesterday? You weren't burnin' yourself again, were you?"

Howard flapped a hand at him. "Shh."

Vince looked at Howard's arm. "You were!" he said, sounding quite upset, although Howard was distracted so he missed this.

"No, I wasn't. I slipped. Carpet burn. Be quiet. I'm trying to listen."

"Listen to what? Are you pervin' on someone, Howard?"

"No! It's them. Noel and Julian. I want to know what's up with them. It's practically World War Three in there."

"Oh," Vince said. He came across and joined Howard by the wall to listen. When he leant near the horrible fading wallpaper he could hear shouting.

"Wait," he said suddenly.

"What?"

"Why World War Three? Why's it the third?"

"Cos there have been two others."

"There have been two other world wars?" Vince asked, aghast. "Why didn't anyone tell me?"

Howard was so stunned by Vince's stupidity – extreme even for him – that he totally forgot to listen to the row next door.

But the row next door got louder…

"You never take anything seriously, do you?"

"What's that s'posed to mean?"

"You never did – whenever we were working, all you'd ever do is float off, get pissed, and now, now we've got this problem to sort out and you're doing _nothing_ –"

"What is there to do? Tell me what to do and I'll do it!"

"We need to talk about this! How are we going to get them home?"

"I don't know!"

"Which is why we need to talk about it!"

"I'm not talkin' to you!"

"This isn't about us, Noel…"

"It is! It's us that's causing the problem!"

"It's you, that's what it is."

"How is this my fault? I didn't let 'em in!"

"No, but you're the one who won't bloody – You always did this –"

"If I always did this, how come you stuck around so long?"

"Noel –"

"Perhaps cause I made your boring life a little more exciting, is that it?"

"What, with all your rock star friends and paparazzi running everywhere? Is that what you call exciting?"

"Yes, it is, actually. And you're just sayin' that cause you know you'd never have got anywhere if you hadn't been with me."

There was a silence.

In their bedroom, Howard and Vince exchanged glances.

"Ouch!" Vince breathed.

Howard didn't say anything. He was reminded nastily of him and Vince. But then again, Vince always came back. And Vince wasn't getting anywhere either, he had to be honest. Vince could have got somewhere on his own, but he came back for Howard… he did always come back…

A door banged down the corridor.

"He must have gone," Vince said. He blew upwards, ruffling his fringe. "I think I'd go, if someone said that to me…"

Howard didn't say that no-one ever would say something like that to Vince. "You still like him, then?" he asked, jerking his head towards the wall to indicate he was talking about Noel.

Vince wriggled his shoulders. "Maybe… maybe there's something going on here, Howard, that we don't know about…"

Finally, Howard thought, he might just be catching on.

-----

The morning air was cold when he left the hotel.

_You're just sayin' that cause you know you'd never have got anywhere if you hadn't been with me._

Noel's words spun round and round in his brain, seeming to hit the sides of his skull, cracking it each time. Julian clutched his forehead. Everything hurt. Everything physically hurt.

He had to get away. He had to get far, far away.

The roads were grey. London roads always seemed greyer in winter. And especially grey now. It was ridiculous but things didn't seem to have colours any more. Or if they did, the colours never seemed to mean as much. Like they were faded. Or because they reminded him…

He was staggering slightly, half-running, desperate to get as far away from that hotel and all their problems, and Noel, as he could. He would have run half round the world to escape.

But how, he seemed to taunt himself even has he went, how can you ever get away?

_You know you'd never have got anywhere if you hadn't been with me._

_If you hadn't been with me._

_Me… me… me…_

You'll never get anywhere without me. You'll never get anywhere trying to get away from me.

-----

Noel just wasn't the kind of person you could forget, Julian thought.

Even if there hadn't been the small issue that Noel had been part of his life for years, he still didn't think he'd be able to cope. Really, he thought, you could probably meet Noel for five minutes and agonise about having to say goodbye to him.

Really, it's stupid, he told himself. There's nothing that special about him. He's a dizzy little man with a shot or two of charisma and a gift for talking. But what's behind him? There's no substance there. There's nothing. He's empty. He's like a bauble on a Christmas tree. He shines – oh God, how he shines – but if you crack him open, he's hollow.

Not that anyone ever did crack Noel open.

Julian sometimes felt like he'd spent years trying to do just that – crack his friend open. Get to what was really _him_. But maybe there wasn't anything. Maybe he really was totally empty.

He was sitting on a bench, looking up at the steely grey sky that hung over the buildings. Buildings that needed re-building. A sky that looked like it could do with painting.

He thought about the painted sky in the television show. That was a nicer sky. A sweet, deep blue sky with its stars hanging as though they'd been glued there, and the Moon, with his face like whipped cream.

Noel's face.

Everything was Noel, Noel, Noel.

If there was nothing in him – if he really was empty, hollow – how could he possibly make such an impact?

Everyone loved him. That was obvious from the tabloids. Noel took a step down the street and girls fainted, men tried to copy his style, photographers took pictures, music played, the sun came out, the deaf could hear and the blind could see – and Julian was probably somewhere behind him, getting crashed into by a mad little old lady.

It sounded amusing. It had been. Once. Perhaps, Julian thought, this is my fault, partly. I let him make me into his background. I let him be the one to come out on top in the end. That was the joke. That was the point.

What came first? The joke or real life? He didn't remember any more.

I sound like a bastard. A horrible, bitter, jealous bastard. Maybe I am.

He didn't know any more.

He didn't really know much any more.

-----

He remembered Noel before Noel grew his hair. Once upon a time, it was short. Noel looked younger with shorter hair. A bit like a school boy. He still had that cheeky grin, but he was bouncy, happy, instead of seductive. He remembered Noel before Noel was beautiful.

His hair was short when they first met. Short and what Julian supposed was its natural brown, although Noel dyed it so much he actually didn't know.

Noel was impressive even without his huge eyes blinking and his mouth set perfectly and that vacant, stunning expression with hair waving round his face. That made it worse, in a way. Noel didn't need all of that. Didn't he know he didn't need it? He'd seen that Julian took to him without it…

Or perhaps Julian didn't really count.

He liked clothes and looking good, even then, but it was different. He was giggly and bouncy and he was talented, too, Julian had been able to tell. And he liked Gary Numan. Oh yes. Julian remembered those conversations about Gary Numan. Julian remembered all of it. See, Noel was someone worth remembering, or at least, Julian thought he was – not that he'd ever tell Noel that, certainly not now – whereas Noel had probably totally forgotten. Wiped it all out with face powder and vodka shared with an indie rock star.

And the shift, it wasn't something you could notice. Not until you looked back and realised that it had happened. Perhaps it wasn't even a shift. Perhaps something that had always been there just came to the surface. Or maybe Julian remembered wrong, he didn't know any more.

But now, he would find himself standing next to a man who was perfect. He lived to be perfection. That was him. He lived to be perfection with adorable insanity. His silky black hair, his clothes, and the big blue eyes. Blinking. Blinking. The only part of him that let you know he was still alive.

-----

Perhaps a coffee would help…

Starbucks was reasonably crowded. A girl stared at him as he went in, but fortunately didn't launch into, "Oh my God, you're Julian Barratt, I love your show" etc.

Recently Julian had taken to telling people he wasn't himself.

He didn't really want to be associated with all that any more. It was ending. In less than a week it would be final and then everyone would know and it would be okay.

They were playing some sort of horrendous pop music. Julian was crowded between a man in a suit and a woman with a pushchair and a screaming baby.

Would it be okay? Of course it wouldn't. How stupid. After years, and years, of working at this, of trying to get it somewhere, they did it – and then what? Then nothing. Then it fell to pieces.

He finally got his drink and managed to get to a small table in the corner. He didn't want to go back outside. The fresh air made his head swim (bizarre, but then, so what? Things felt wrong at the moment).

The ghastly music went on: "_Of all the things I've believed in, I just wanna get it over with…_"

Julian understood that. He just wanted to be away from Noel. Away so maybe he could try to forget…

He wouldn't forget. He'd already established, Noel wasn't a person you forgot. Noel himself would be outraged at the idea that someone might forget him, Julian knew that.

He was right, too. No-one ever did. Hate him they might but they never forgot him. He was imprinted on everyone's memory like a weird, perfectly-formed stamp.

He hated him. He hated Noel. He hated his demeanour, his flirtatious expressions. He hated the way he got linked to famous women left, right and centre and didn't even care. He hated the way Noel was always found with celebrities – celebrities he thought were cool, celebrities he made cool – off his face on drink, then modelling something the next day. Winning awards for his clothes. All over magazines. Everywhere.

Was that the man he'd met? Was it? Where had it all come from? Noel had always been slightly self-centred but Julian had never seen… never really seen that…

"_Goodbye to you_," went the music. "_Goodbye to everything I thought I knew._"

Julian didn't hate Noel.

"_You were the one I loved, the one thing that I tried to hold on to…_"

Oh God, this was hellish.

He didn't hate him. How could he? Noel hadn't done anything wrong, not really. He was a self-centred, arrogant arse but had there been one event to set all this off? No.

"_I used to get lost in your eyes, and it seems that I can't live a day without you…_"

And everywhere he went – everywhere, again, as things always were with Noel – there were images. Not in the papers and magazines, although obviously they were there too. But they were all over. Memories.

"_Closing my eyes, and you chase my thoughts away, to a place where I am blinded by the light…_"

A street corner, he'd remember Noel sitting on the kerb, half-laughing and half-crying, drunk out of his mind. In taxis, he'd remember the two of them rushing to meet potential producers, late again, panicking, both trying to calm each other down and actually both making each other worse. Loud music from shops or cars would, he'd remember him and Noel blasting Gary Numan and singing along (badly). When he saw people laughing together he'd remember how Noel used to make him laugh – and how he used to make Noel laugh, too; one of the happiest sounds in the world.

And every time he'd see a pale-skinned man, a thin man, a man in tight black trousers, he'd always have to turn and look – just to make sure – and almost hoping it was Noel, just in case things would have changed and they could go back to being how they'd been.

At his house, in his living room, he'd remember Noel sleeping on the sofa. In the kitchen he'd remember Noel lying on the table, pretending to have a heart attack over something Julian read in the papers – or perhaps Noel blowing up a bag of popcorn in the microwave.

Sunsets would mean Noel trying to paint, colours everywhere – even in his hair sometimes – all over his fingers, running together, reds and oranges and blues and greens, all over his hands but not mixing into an ugly brown. Paint round him on the floor. The easel in front of him. Tongue between his teeth from concentrating on a difficult bit. Bright, and brilliant.

Happy moments wouldn't be happy enough.

And every down moment, every quiet, miserable moment, he'd look for those concerned blue eyes, the gentle expression… and the voice. "Julian… Ju… come on… you can smile, it's me, I've seen you smile before, you don't need to worry I'll laugh…"

Every time someone said his name, it wouldn't be how Noel used to say it.

"_Goodbye to you, goodbye to everything I thought I knew. You were the one I loved, the one thing that I tried to hold onto…_"

Even after everything, Julian still wished, deep down under all the anger and bitterness, that it hadn't changed. That they could go back to that.

"_And it hurts to want everything and nothing at the same time… I want what's yours and I want what's mine… I want you, but I'm not giving in this time._"

It was still happening, though. There was no way they could get past this.

He suddenly remembered Howard and Vince. Real. Real men. What would happen to them? Would they end up hating each other too? Or would they stay close? They seemed close. That somehow hurt more. Julian knew he should be freaked out at the sudden appearance of their television characters but no, he was more hurt. Because Howard and Vince were him and Noel, but him and Noel the way they had been.

He finished his drink and stood up.

Outside, a man was flapping the _London Lite_ around, trying to force it onto unfortunate passers-by. The sky was twisting a bit. Rain, perhaps?

He left Starbucks, pulling his jacket round him.

"_And when the stars fall I will lie awake… you're my shooting star._"

* * *

**Wow, that was a long 'un!**

**I'd like to say, thank you to everyone for your lovely reviews, and to everyone who has favourited this story or put it on alert. It really makes me smile :)**

**"Bliss Of Another Kind" is going to be updated, hopefully earlier next week, but I'm making no promises. However I am definitely continuing it, so don't get worried.**

**Thanks for reading so much!**

**violence x**


	9. They're in danger

**Right! Update update update!! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Boosh, or Noel and Julian. They own all that. Michael Fielding owns himself. I do own the chavs but I'm not sure if I want to...**

**Notes: Follows on from the end of Chapter 7. More Naboo magic, as I like writing that. And some of what is to come with Noel and Vince in the club. I hope no-one's offended by this. It's all purely my imagination. If anyone wants me to up the rating because of it, I will.**

**I also hope no-one is offended by the slight sacrilege I've committed on Howard here!! hehe.**

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

**_"They're in danger, I know it"_**

"What?" Bollo asked again.

"The book!" Naboo clutched his head. "I left the book behind!"

"Ugh," groaned Bollo. "Naboo idiot."

"Shut up, you ball bag."

"Bollo right. Naboo idiot. Can't get home without book."

"I know that – lemme think!"

"What Naboo got to think about? Need to go back to house and get the book."

Naboo glared. He was used to solving problems cleverly, with magic.

Bollo never usually pointed out that there was a simpler solution.

But Bollo's solution proved not to be that simple. As the shaman and the gorilla went back up the road towards the house they had come from, they saw someone walking down the front path.

Naboo motioned to the ground and they both dropped, hiding behind a garden wall. Slowly, Naboo peeked his turban, and then his eyes, over the wall. Bollo's eyes followed a moment later. They could see the path of the house they had come from quite clearly.

The person walking down the path was the man Naboo had blown powder in the face of. He was walking very slowly. Under one arm, he carried something. A large something. He kept turning round and looking at the house, shaking his head and putting his free hand to his mouth, and clutching his hair between his fingers. He was, they now saw, very short. He had black hair and a pale face.

In fact, he reminded Bollo of someone…

He glanced at Naboo, who was cupping a hand to his ear.

"Naboo…"

"Shh. I'm listenin'."

"Too far. Naboo not hear."

"Nah. Shh." Naboo cupped his ear again and leaned towards the man. It was like using a periscope. He often listened like this. The sounds sucked towards him – but wait. Something was wrong… it was going too fast… the sucking was too much… everything pulled away from him, stretching like a tunnel of fractured glass…

He was in the man.

He was in his head.

Panic – not something Naboo was used to – shot through him. He couldn't move. He couldn't break the concentration. He needed to break it to stop hearing, maybe that would get him out… but he couldn't. In the darkness, somewhere inside the man's mind, he struggled, frantically, but he couldn't make the man's body do what he wanted. He couldn't turn his head to see if Bollo had noticed anything wrong. He was like a backseat passenger knowing the car was going to crash. He had no idea what was happening. He'd never heard of anything like this before.

He could feel everything. He could hear everything, from the slap of the man's shoes – his shoes – on the stones of the path, to the racing of his heart in his chest. His shocked breaths rattling almost painfully in his throat.

He staggered on down the path. He reached a car parked outside the house and dumped the something on the roof.

Naboo could see, somewhat blurrily, from the man's eyes, that it was his own spell book. He tried to blink to clear his vision but he couldn't, and it stayed clouded. He tried to grasp the book, to grip it, but still, the hands didn't do as he wanted. The man had no idea he was in here.

He was fumbling in his pocket, struggling a bit with something inside. After a few moments, he got out a small case and pulled from it a pair of dark-rimmed glasses, which he put on his eyes with shaking hands. Instantly the world sharpened into focus. The man peered at the book. Naboo could feel his hand trembling on the cover, on the pages as he turned them. He saw the familiar words.

The man was shaking his head again. Naboo felt his own neck being turned from side to side, against his will. Then the man reached for his pocket. This time he produced a phone. He dialled a number: Naboo heard the beeps in his ear. And then a voice. A voice Naboo knew.

"Hi, this is Noel, I'm not 'ere right now, but leave me a message and I'll call ya back!"

That was Vince's voice.

But Vince talking differently. Slightly deeper. And calling himself Noel.

But if that was a shock, it was nothing compared to the current of ice that seemed to explode through Naboo – or at least, through his mind – as he heard the voice of the man he was still inside, leaving a message: "Noel, it's Mike. You –"

It was his own.

His own voice.

"Look, I went to your house – just lookin' for you, cos you're not answering your phone – and I went in – and – Noel, I'm not crazy – I saw Naboo."

The shock of this was so much that suddenly the concentration broke – split like an elastic band suddenly breaking and snapping back on your finger, with just that amount of pain – and Naboo instantly found himself falling, and the next second he was sprawled on his back, looking up at the sky. He felt his own lungs heaving. He reached for his face and his hand moved. He felt his hair, his turban – he was back.

Bollo's face appeared in his line of vision. "Naboo? What happened?"

Naboo couldn't speak.

"Naboo go all rigid. Bollo think have fit. Then fall over. What happened?"

"Bollo –" Naboo said, in a very small voice. He reached for his familiar's arm, to try and centre himself.

"Bollo worried," said the gorilla, as he attempted – as gently as he could – to help Naboo back up. "Naboo ill?"

"No – well, maybe – wait! Where's that man?"

"Oh." Bollo turned to look. "Driving off."

"What?" Naboo tried to struggle to the garden wall, Bollo supporting him. He was just in time to see the car disappear round the corner.

He slumped back against Bollo's furry body.

"What happened?" Bollo asked again.

"I went into him," Naboo said.

"What?"

"I was tryin' to listen – and it went wrong – and I was inside 'im."

"Naboo gone mad," said Bollo – but even he sounded shaken.

"No. No, I didn't. I was in 'im – I dunno what it was; I've never 'eard of it before – and he made a call – and the person on the end, 'e sounded just like Vince –"

"South London types," Bollo said.

"But Bollo – then 'e spoke – and it was _my voice_, Bollo; he had my voice. And he said, I've seen Naboo. I've seen Naboo."

Bollo looked down at the shaman. Suddenly his size was very obvious. Suddenly he didn't seem like an ancient magic-man. Suddenly he seemed like a small child that had just had a nightmare.

Bollo had never been good with children. They pulled his fur and made faces and scratched under their arms, pretending to be monkeys. At the zoo Bollo had once been in trouble because a child put its hand too close and Bollo had thought it might look good on his wall – or in his stomach.

But fortunately, Naboo seemed to snap out of it, at least a bit.

"We've got to find Howard and Vince," he said.

"What about the book?"

"Them first." Naboo stood up, still swaying a bit, but looking determined. "It's dangerous here. They're in danger, I know it. Something's going on. We have to find them."

"Okay." Bollo paused. "Where?"

"Where d'you think? We'll check the bars – that where Vince would go, and Howard's always with him –"

"How we get round all the bars?"

"On me carpet."

"We didn't bring the carpet."

"Ah." Naboo reached under his robes and pulled out a small box. "Folding magic carpet. For the shaman who likes to travel light. I just flick this switch and –" He pressed a small catch on the box, and it clicked, whirred and sprang to life. Naboo and Bollo drew back as a carpet unfolded before their eyes.

"Right," said Naboo, settling himself on it. "Let's ride."

-----

_That afternoon._

In a hotel room somewhere secluded, somewhere people wouldn't think to look, there was a problem.

"I'm _bored_!" Vince wailed.

"I know," Howard said. "You've told me about fifty times already."

"But I'm _bored_!"

"What do you want me to do, Vince? Dress in a sequined outfit and give you your own personal cabaret show?"

Vince's face lit up. "That would be hilarious!"

"Well, I'm sorry! But it's not going to happen! I'm Howard Moon! I'm deep! I'm meaningful! I don't give cabaret shows to just anybody!"

"I'm not just anybody; it's me!"

"No cabaret shows!"

"But I'm _bored_!"

Noel and Julian exchanged a look.

This had been going on for at least an hour.

It was starting to get on their nerves.

They hated it.

They hated it because it was exactly like their little bits of banter on the TV show. When they still did the TV show.

"Well, tough!" Howard said. "You'll just have to stay being bored. There's nothing I can do. Watch the television."

Noel and Julian both went to leap up, just in case.

But fortunately, Vince shook his head. "Don't like this television. I don't know the programmes."

"Then stop complaining! There's nothing else to do!"

"We could go out," Vince said.

"Go out?" Howard yelped. "We can't go out!"

"Why not?"

"You know why, Vince."

"I forgot."

"Well, the reason is, we can't let – I mean, we can't have –"

"The reason," said Noel, cutting in helpfully, "Is we can't have people seein' us and seein' you, certainly not together."

Vince seemed to calm down a bit at that. He breathed out slowly, reaching up to touch his hair – but then his eyes snapped again. "We could go in disguise!"

"What?" Howard asked.

"Oh, please! We could go in disguise! It could be genius!"

"What, and what's this disguise gonna be, then, Vince? Where's it gonna come from? Are you gonna wear my clothes and I wear yours?"

"_No_, that's weird!"

Noel and Julian looked at each other again.

"Julian…"

Julian didn't want to talk to Noel. He'd got back to the hotel about lunch time, but he still felt lost. Like he was trapped in his own mind. Nothing felt particularly real, not even brilliant, colourful Noel right in front of him. "Don't even think about it," he said.

"But if they could dress up –"

"Like he said," Julian said, indicating Howard. "In what?"

"But –"

"You really are pathetic," Julian said. "You just can't bear being out of the limelight."

Noel gave him a look. A very, very cold look with those icy blue eyes.

"Hey, Vince!" he said, standing up.

Oh great, Julian thought. Now you've done it…

"Why don't we go out?"

"What?" Howard gasped.

"Yes!" Vince squealed, thrilled. Then he paused. "Where?"

"We'll go out tonight, if –" Noel held up a finger. "If you two can make yourselves look different from us." He indicated himself and Julian.

"I'm not coming," Julian muttered.

Noel just gave him a look.

"Genius!" Vince said, ecstatic. They were going out. Going out tonight. And he was going to be out with Noel…

"I gotta go shopping!"

"No, Vince!" Howard yelled, but Vince had already seized his jacket. "Back later! I'll get our stuff! You won't recognise us, I swear!"

And he was gone.

The other three both had the distinct impression that a glittery tornado had just swept out of the room.

-----

"Right," said Vince.

"What?" Howard asked.

They were in the bedroom. It was evening. Vince had returned with several large shopping bags. He'd produced clothes for Howard. The kind of clothes Howard wouldn't be seen dead in. This appalling, silky-looking shirt. And these close-fitting black trousers. Not jeans. Smarter than that. But still too close-fitting for Howard's liking.

"I still want to know how you know my sizes," he told Vince.

"I know a lot of things, Howard," Vince said – conjuring up some disturbing images which Howard attempted to push aside. "Look, Vince," he said, "These clothes, ridiculous as they are, are one thing – but nothing else."

"There has to be something else," Vince said.

"What?"

"I'm gonna do your hair."

"No!" Howard leapt backwards. "No! I'm not letting you near my hair!"

"But I'm your midnight barber, remember? I've been near it loads of times."

Howard hesitated. He didn't like this at all. But, then again, just letting Vince comb his hair a bit… that surely couldn't hurt too much, could it?

"All right," he said, sitting down very slowly on the bed, as though it was boiling hot. "But I warn you, if you do anything weird to me…"

Vince smiled – slightly wickedly. "I know just what I'm doin'. Got it all planned. Just relax now…"

Half an hour later, Vince announced, "Finished!"

Howard had been sitting, eyes closed, feeling Vince doing up his hair – and touching his face. "Just givin' your moustache a tidy-up," Vince had said. Howard had complained at first – his moustache didn't get touched by just anybody – but once again, Vince had reminded him that he wasn't just anybody, and Howard had given up. Vince was too persistent. He was like a puppy desperate to be played with.

"Ta-dah!" Vince said, holding up his hand mirror.

Howard saw a face.

A face surrounded by rumpled, tousled hair, sexily hanging forward slightly towards one eye. A mature, strong, handsome face. A smooth face…

Wait.

_What?_

"What have you done to me?" Howard screamed, clutching the space under his nose and above his mouth. A space where there shouldn't have been a space.

"Gave you a little shave," Vince grinned.

"A _little_ shave? A _little_ shave? Vince, look at me! Look at me!" Howard gestured at his face. A face that was now devoid of its usual moustache.

"Okay, fine, it was more than a little – but Howard, that moustache is so not cool. And I thought maybe, if you could see yourself without it –"

"I look like a freak!" Howard cried, seizing the mirror again.

"No, you look normal." Vince paused. "Actually, you look kinda better than normal. You look all right, Howard, once you've scrubbed up a bit – not so generic anymore!"

For a moment, Howard started to feel flattered – and then he remembered that Vince had just stripped him of his defining feature without his consent.

"But I always have a moustache!" he bellowed. "Me without a moustache is like Jesus without a beard!"

"You're comparin' yourself to Jesus? That's well vain, Howard."

"You know what I mean! Just look at it! I look so – so –"

"You look younger, Howard," Vince said, coming up behind him. "Younger. And this hair – what was with it all being pushed back off your forehead? Now it comes forward it looks way better, dontcha think?"

"No! It –" But, now Vince mentioned it, perhaps he did look… he wasn't sure. Younger. Maybe that was the word. Not young like Vince, who was fresh and youthful-looking. Mature, still – but mature in an attractive way. Strong? Manly?

Howard wasn't used to thinking these things about himself.

Actually, it wasn't so much that he looked bad. It was just that he didn't look like himself.

Vince was still standing behind him. He was watching Howard's face in the mirror. His eyes were twinkling. "See?" he said.

Howard glared and tried to think of something to say, but couldn't.

"Well," he said eventually, "I hope you know this is very much a one-off thing!"

Vince rolled his eyes. "We'll see. Now, get out. I need to change."

"Oh yeah? What are you wearing?" Howard asked, as he was pushed out of the door.

"It's a surprise," Vince said, winking. And he closed the door.

Howard was left in the room, looking around very nervously. He felt the collar of the shirt against his neck. He put his hand to his newly-rumpled hair. He wasn't at all used to this. The area above his mouth felt cold.

And he wasn't used to going out, either. Not going out like Vince liked to go out. Sure, Howard had a social life – he had the jazz club – but not the kind of social life Vince had. And going out with Vince _and_ Noel would be like going out with two Vinces. And Julian, the only other vaguely sane-seeming person here (although even he liked Gary Numan) had said he wasn't coming.

Howard wandered over to the window, wondering what Vince was doing, what he was wearing – and how long it would take his moustache to grow back. He kept touching his face. It felt wrong.

Maybe wrong wasn't bad. Necessarily.

The door opened, and Noel, in very tight black trousers that left almost nothing to the imagination, a long coat and a black, broad-brimmed hat, entered.

"Vince? Vince –" He broke off when he saw Howard.

His eyes widened.

Howard tried to stare back defiantly, but he felt his face burning.

Julian came in behind Noel, wearing quite similar stuff to what he'd been in the night Howard and Vince first met him. "I hope you know, Noel," he was saying, "That I think this is a really bad idea, and I'm only coming to make sure you don't do something ridiculous –" He too broke off when he saw Howard.

Oh God.

But Howard wasn't the centre of attention for long.

Because suddenly, the bedroom door handle turned.

Vince had heard Noel's voice. Noel's voice calling for him.

And he'd decided it was time to make his appearance.

The door of bedroom swung back.

And three mouths dropped open.

Vince stood there, smiling rather coyly.

He was wearing a dress.

A short, black, sparkly dress, nipped in at the waist with a belt. And tights, black, but quite sleek. And heels. Black high heels. He'd brushed his hair back wildly and made himself up even more than usual. He blinked dark, smoky-looking eyes from under a curtain of dark, mascara-d lashes and pouted lips lightly frosted with pale pink lipstick.

"How do I look?" he asked.

There was silence.

Nobody else could speak.

Howard had to remind himself very, very firmly that this was Vince, his best friend, not a woman.

Julian had to remind himself that this was basically Noel.

Noel was too busy gaping to have any real thoughts at all, except vague phrases that kept surfacing like, "Did I put on enough aftershave?" and "Would it be too soon to ask for his number?"

Vince giggled a bit and tossed his hair back off his face. "Are we going, then?" he asked.

"Yes! Definitely!" said Noel, coming back to himself with a slight jerk. He hurried over to Vince and offered him his arm, as though they were suddenly in the 1920s. Vince giggled again, smiled flirtatiously, and took Noel's arm. With a rather regal beckon to Julian and Howard, Noel led Vince out of the room.

Howard and Julian shared a rather despairing look. But there was nothing they could do. They had to go after them.

-----

On the street, the neon lights suddenly seemed dull.

Noel and Vince out-shone them. They blazed like beacons. As they walked past people, crowds would visibly turn to get a second look at them.

In the car, Howard managed to hiss to Vince, "What are you doing? Since when are you a transvestite?"

"I'm not," Vince had whispered back. "But we were meant to be in disguise, and everyone always thinks I'm a woman even in me normal stuff, so I thought, why not? Does it look okay?" He was looking at Noel as he said this.

Howard had sighed. "Yeah," he'd said. "Yeah, I think you look fine."

Now, Noel and Vince strutted and preened like a pair of glittery Goth love birds.

Behind them, Howard felt like a fat, boring, scabby pigeon that people kicked away.

He also wished he hadn't considered the "love birds" image. Love birds. _Love_ birds.

The city lights were so bright here. So bright and in focus, and yet decadent at the same time. They loomed out of the darkness at them as they walked down the road.

Howard was still feeling distinctly uncomfortable without his moustache.

-----

They stalked the streets. They went into a club. There were flashing red and yellow and green and blue lights everywhere, soaking into their skin. Howard kept away from the lights in the corner, because he somehow didn't feel he deserved to be touched by them. He watched Noel and Vince dancing together, slender bodies bending to the music. He watched Noel taking Vince's hand and knew he shouldn't look. He knew this was getting dangerously close to voyeurism and deep invasion of privacy. Perhaps even doing what Vince had accused him of that morning: perving on people. But he was worried about Vince. Vince, who looked so stunning as a woman. Not that Howard thought of him like that. But if he hadn't known Vince was a woman, he would have been wowing him with his pencil case story. Noel wouldn't have had a chance…

Noel had his hands on Vince's hips, his head over Vince's shoulder, face against Vince's hair. Vince leant back against Noel, their dark hair getting tangled together, and neither seemed to mind. Howard could see the pleasure on Vince's face even from where he was standing.

Perhaps that grinding bodies-together type dancing was better than the pencil case story.

Julian brought drinks. He wasn't looking at anybody. Maybe he was worried about being recognised. Maybe he just hated catching people's eyes. He thrust one glass rather gruffly at Howard and then looked firmly at his feet.

The silence was noticeable, even with the thundering beats behind them, the beats that seemed to shake off the walls. Howard took a sip of his drink and grimaced. What was this? It was so strong… it burnt.

Out on the dance floor, Vince had his leg wrapped around Noel's back, the tip of his heel sticking out quite dangerously behind them. If anyone danced too near they would be gutted by a rogue stiletto…

Howard drank some more, not because he liked it, but because it was something to do.

The silence between him and Julian seemed to burn as much as whatever was in his glass did.

Perhaps he should say something…

"You know," he said, and was surprised that his voice wobbled a bit as he spoke, "Once, when I was at school, I had this pencil case –"

Julian blinked.

"Never mind," Howard said, suddenly uncomfortable. He drank some more.

Noel was pushing Vince backwards, so Vince's flat stomach was up towards the ceiling. Noel's hands ran over Vince's chest, and Vince, leg still hooking him to Noel, was stretching his arms out, as though he couldn't control what he was doing with them…

Howard glanced at Julian, who, for some reason, seemed to be trying not to laugh.

Perhaps he thought Vince and Noel looked ridiculous.

Howard didn't actually think so. Not ridiculous, no. What was going on out there looked incredibly dangerous, yes. The more involved Vince got with this, the more and more likely it became he would be unwilling to leave.

Howard hadn't actually let himself properly consider this possibility before. What if Vince actually wanted to stay? What if he didn't want to come home? Suppose he chose to stay in this parallel world with Noel?

Howard imagined himself going home alone. He imagined being in the flat with deadpan Naboo and Bollo, who didn't even like him and would talk constantly about how Howard had lost "precious Vince". He imagined working in the shop on his own, at first watching all Vince's Camden friends coming in to find him, and gradually seeing them all stop turning up… until the shop became empty. And the smell of Vince's hairspray would fade. And suddenly the flat would seem totally colourless, without Vince around.

Howard didn't even want to think about it. He swigged some more of his drink, quite fast. Some of it missed his mouth.

"Are you all right?" asked a voice.

It was Julian.

"Yeah, yeah…" Again, his voice wavered, more this time.

Noel and Vince were tangled together on the dance floor. They looked like silhouettes all of a sudden. Howard could feel the beat of the music going up his legs.

"Are you sure?" His own face swam in and out of focus in front of him. No, wait, not his own face… or maybe it was his own face…

"Yeah…" Suddenly the floor swung closer. Suddenly Howard realised he was on his back, looking up at the light fittings, which were very black. And there were people dancing, on the walls, on the ceiling. And feet shook the floor, making an earthquake. And more voices. "Julian, is he okay?" "I think he drank too much…" "Why did you give him that stuff, you prick?" "Howard? Howard? Howard Howard Howard Howard Howard…"

-----

They staggered down the street back to Julian's car.

Vince and Julian were supporting Howard. Noel hovered awkwardly.

Howard was practically unconscious.

"How much did he drink?" Vince asked, voice strained from the effort of holding the bigger man upright.

"He had a bit of vodka…" Julian said.

"Howard doesn't even know what vodka is," Vince said worriedly. He peered round at Howard. "Howard? Howard? Can you hear me?"

"I had a pencil case…" Howard burbled.

"Okay, just, like, go back to being unconscious," Vince said.

"How much further to the car?" Noel asked.

"I said, about another ten minutes," Julian replied, trying not to start an argument when they had Howard like this. "But that's walking normally. We've got him." He jerked his head at Howard, who seemed to have taken Vince at his word and had slumped again.

Cars sailed past on the street, almost seeming not to touch the ground.

They hauled Howard past crowds of clubbers, none of whom, fortunately, seemed to be into British comedy. No-one recognised Julian or Noel. Actually, Julian thought, perhaps I'm not surprised they don't look at me. But it's the fact they're not looking at Noel that tells us they're not into that kind of thing…

People were, however, looking at Vince.

"Hey, love!" leered a guy in baggy sweatpants and a too tight t-shirt straining ominously over his stomach. His friends, all clutching cans of lager and drunk as well, cackled trollishly behind him.

Normally Vince would have walked past people like this, but because he and Julian were supporting Howard, there wasn't enough room on the pavement for them all to push past.

"Excuse me," said Julian, trying to edge them round, but the guys were still grinning at Vince and had no intention of letting them go.

"Hey, love," said the first guy who'd spoken, "Why don't you leave these blokes and come out with us?"

Vince shook his head.

"Aw, c'mon, love. We'll show you a real good time, won't we, guys?" All his friends grinned and laughed and nodded.

"No," Vince said. He wasn't used to guys like these. He'd had his share of dodgy men in the past, but these men seemed almost violent. They were much more dangerous. They reeked of beer and sweat and illness. And he didn't even have any beauty products handy to fight them off with…

"Look, leave him alone!"

Noel suddenly barged in between Vince and the guys.

"What?" laughed the first guy, who seemed to be the leader of the little gang. "Who the hell are you? What's with all your make-up and shit? Do you take it up the arse?" All his friends laughed again. The first guy grabbed Vince's arm. He didn't seem to have noticed that Noel had called Vince "him". "Why don't you come off with us, then?" he asked, leaning horribly close. Vince choked slightly at the guy's breath, which smelled of very cheap kebabs. Howard wobbled as Vince got pulled away from him, and Julian had to seize him round the middle to stop him falling over.

"I said, leave him alone!" Noel yelled.

"And I said, fuck off, you queer," said the guy. He tried to put his arm round Vince's waist. Vince edged away, but the guy was still holding his arm.

"He's with me!" Noel shouted.

"Noel…" Julian muttered, terrified they might get into a fight. These guys could easily have knives or, worse, guns.

"With _you_?" All the guys cracked up with horrible, sneering laughter. "What the hell are you doing with this queer, love?" the first guy asked Vince, fondling Vince's face.

"I am with him," Vince said, sounding scared.

The guys all laughed again.

"You just need a real man," said the first guy. He glanced at Noel, and then at Julian, who was still supporting Howard. "This queer and Grandpa over there need to get your mate home, he's out of it. But you can come out with us…" His hand reached down dangerously…

"Let go of him!" Noel shouted, shoving the guy away from Vince.

The guy suddenly stopped laughing. He looked angry. "What are you gonna do about it?" he asked, pushing Vince aside roughly and advancing on Noel.

Noel backed away, but the guy was faster than him and seized his t-shirt. "I said, what are you gonna do about it?"

Vince rushed at the guy and leapt on his back. "You get off him, you freak!" He tried to haul the guy away from Noel but one of the larger members of the gang got hold of him and pulled him off. The first guy chuckled nastily and turned back to Noel, glaringly threateningly. "What are you gonna do about it?"

Noel said nothing.

The guy suddenly pushed Noel hard, almost sending him straight out into the road. Noel staggered, nearly falling, clutching at a parked car to steady himself. The guy's friends all stepped nearer, the one who had been holding Vince forgetting about the mod and going to join in the fight.

"Don't hurt him!" Vince tried to grab one of the guys but they brushed him off easily.

One of the guys reached Noel and pinned him against the side of the car.

"Noel!" Vince screamed.

"Vince, hold Howard!" Vince barely had time to take in what was happening before the drunken jazz maverick was forced against him. Vince, wobbling dangerously on his heels as he tried to support Howard, managed to look up in time to see Julian dash to the car, force his way between Noel and the guy pinning him to the car, raise his hand, and punch the guy fiercely across the face.

The guy staggered, gasping, clutching the side of his jaw. When he took his hand away Vince could see blood on his fingers.

"Jesus Christ!" the guy yelled. "He punched me!"

The main guy, the one who'd grabbed Vince, scowled, and advanced on Julian. But Julian put up his hand again and shoved him backwards violently. "You keep away, or –"

The main guy tottered backwards and fell, crashing to the ground.

For a few seconds, there was silence.

Then: "C'mon," muttered the main guy, struggling up, and they all hurried away.

There were another few seconds of silence.

Then Howard mumbled, "And I took home the pencil case of the boy who sat next to me…"

And that broke the tension.

"Wow!" said Vince, looking at Julian, extremely impressed.

Noel, who had been cowering against the car, managed to stand up. "God, Julian," he said. "I've known you how many years? And I have never seen you like that before!"

Julian looked at him, rather embarrassed. "It's not something I like to make a habit of, Noel – beating up chavs."

Vince was grinning. "It should be!" he laughed. "They were gettin' really nasty and you just – bam!" He mimed punching someone, almost dropping Howard in his excitement.

"Yeah, well, Noel was about to get snapped in half," Julian said, feeling awkward.

Noel looked at him.

"And you, you got right between me and that guy!" Vince said, turning his attention to Noel.

Noel blinked and came back to himself. "Well, you know. He was gonna hurt you. I didn't want you getting hurt, did I?"

Vince's smile at that was rather shy, but extremely beautiful.

"Come on," said Julian, attempting to interrupt, but Noel and Vince were looking at each other and it took them a couple of seconds even to notice that Julian had spoken.

They managed to drag Howard, who didn't even seem to realise something had happened, back to the car. "Get him in," Julian said to Vince.

"Okay," Vince said. Now he didn't seem traumatised by what had happened at all. "By the way," he said smiling at Julian, "Thanks, for getting rid of those guys."

"Oh. That's all right." Julian shifted uncomfortably.

Vince grinned again and began to get Howard into the back of the car.

Julian turned to go round to the driver's door – and found Noel standing behind him.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing." Noel sounded awkward.

"Okay, well, I've gotta get in to drive." Julian tried to get past.

"Hey."

Julian turned.

"Thanks."

Noel wasn't looking at him. He was looking at his feet. He attempted to raise his eyes, but then seemed to think better of it and went back to studying his boots.

"Well, they could have killed you. Only what anyone else would have done."

Noel shrugged.

They didn't say anything else to each other as they drove back to the hotel, managed to get Howard inside, and helped Vince get him into the bedroom.

"Will you manage?" Noel asked.

"Oh, sure," Vince said. "I can always handle him."

"Okay. Well, goodnight… Vince."

"Goodnight… Noel."

And after a few seconds, Vince slowly pushed the door shut. But his big blue eyes were fixed on Noel all the time.

Noel and Julian went in silence back to their room.

Neither of them spoke, until they were in bed, and Julian thought Noel had gone to sleep, until he heard Noel's voice: "Night, Ju."

Oh fuck, Noel thought. I didn't mean to – I didn't mean to call him that. Did he hear? Please, don't let him have heard…

Julian didn't reply.

He must already be asleep, Noel thought.

Julian was too taken aback by the use of the old nickname to speak.

* * *

**Should be updated quite soon, as I've already written some of the next chapter. It will contain slight weirdness...**

**Thanks for reading.**

**violence x**


	10. Mods Do It Better

**Second update in one weekend! I'm exhausted but proud of myself.**

**Disclaimer: Boosh is owned by Julian Barratt and Noel Fielding.  
The songs Noel and Vince listen to are "Don't You Want Me Baby?" and "Don't You Know I Want You?", both by Human League.  
Hawley Arms was a real place (it's been burnt now but this is set before) and I don't own it.  
Alexandra is mine.**

**Notes: As I warned, this chapter contains some weirdness. I hope no-one minds but in case anyone does, I've decided to do what Beechwood0708 did in her "Secret History of Howard Moon"... I've put dashes on either side of the slash scene (it's not explicit or anything, but the pairing is, well, unsual). You don't have to read it, then, if you don't want to. All you need to know is that they got off.  
Again, I am not trying to offend anyone, and this is all my imagination. If anyone wants me to up the rating to "M", I will do, just let me know.  
I'm not too sure about some of this chapter, but oh well.**

**This chapter is dedicated to my wonderful beta Lizzi (LixiPixi), for encouraging me to put it up.**

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

**_"Mods do it better"_**

Naboo and Bollo were exhausted. They'd been travelling around London all day, going into bar after bar (well, Naboo had been going into the bars; he left Bollo outside so no-one would freak out at the presence of a gorilla), asking if anyone had seen Howard and Vince. Well, actually, mainly asking if anyone had seen Vince. Howard had quite a forgettable face.

Now it was late. They were soaring over the glimmering lights of London, and Naboo just wanted to lie down and go to sleep. But the thought of what had happened earlier, and the danger they were all in, spurred him on.

"We gotta keep going, Bollo," he said.

"Bollo not mind," said the gorilla behind him.

Bollo wasn't having a bad time. He had a beer in one hand and a girl he'd picked up outside one of the clubs in the other.

He hoped Naboo wouldn't turn round. Naboo had a strict "no girls on the carpet" policy.

But Naboo seemed too tired.

"Right, where next?" he was muttering to himself, looking at his Shaman Sat-Nav. "Camden…"

"Vince like Camden," Bollo said, as the girl stroked his fur.

"Yeah. Next place is called the Hawley Arms."

They landed a few moments later, with a soft bump, round the side of the bar, near the bins.

"Right," said Naboo, struggling up and straightening his turban. "I'm going in… wait here, Bollo."

"Of course," grunted the gorilla, winking at the girl.

Naboo disappeared down the alleyway.

The bar looked quiet. It was still relatively early, only about nine. Naboo brushed down his robes, drew himself up to his full height, and went inside.

There were people at tables, laughing and chatting together. There were others lounging against the bar, drinking.

Naboo went over to the bar.

As he came up, a few people blinked, and drew backwards, staring.

Trying not to show that he felt quite uncomfortable being stared at like this, Naboo hauled himself up onto a bar stool (he wouldn't be able to see if he stayed on the floor), with as much dignity as he could manage.

There was a girl with very long, black hair turned away from him, making a drink.

Attempting to ignore a group of men who were peering at him unsubtly, Naboo tapped on the bar top. "Excuse me…"

The girl turned round.

Heavily-outlined blue eyes met large brown ones.

There was silence.

Suddenly all the rest of the bar seemed to disappear. It was a bit like being sucked in to listen to someone, but she wasn't saying anything…

Naboo's head whirled. He felt like he'd flown off the ground. More magic? He didn't like this world at all. Strange magic kept happening…

"Hey," said the girl, finally. She was staring at him, her eyes wide.

Her voice was like Siren song. Naboo had heard Sirens in his travels through the universe. Siren song. Maybe even more beautiful…

"Are you a Siren?" he asked. Perhaps he should run away, blow powder at her, before he got hypnotised.

The girl's face split into a beautiful smile. She shook her head slightly. She was still staring at him, but she was looking a little shy now.

She still reminded Naboo of a Siren. He felt giddy, as though he was about to fall over. He wanted to get out of here… but her delicate lips, her ivory skin, her long luscious black hair… and those eyes, with their eyeliner…

"A Seraph, then?"

The girl blushed. "I'm Alexandra."

Alexandra…

Naboo suddenly remembered why he was in this bar.

Who know what sort of creature she was? He couldn't allow himself to be distracted. They were in danger here. He knew nothing about this world. He cleared his throat and attempted to gather his words. "Um, look, I was wondering…"

She blinked, looking slightly surprised. As if it wasn't enough to have two people who looked like television show characters coming in within one week! And this man actually seemed to be dressed as Naboo and everything. Had one of her friends put him up to it? He'd also got in rather fast. Mind you, what he'd said hadn't been sleazy or perverted like a lot of men… in fact, he was clearly intelligent, mentioning ancient Greek stories and angels…

"I'm looking for… I don't know if you've…" He coughed and tried again. "A man, a man who might have come in here –"

Now Alexandra was very confused. "What man?"

"A man – long, dark hair; high cheekbones; blue eyes. Probably wearing something bright and sparkly. Called Vince…"

Alexandra suddenly started.

"Vince? Vince… Noir?"

-----

_Next morning._

Vince stirred angelically in his sleep, his dark lashes fluttering against his sculpted cheek bones. He was slightly flushed from being under the warm duvet – and possibly from whatever he'd been dreaming about. His eyes opened and took in the bedroom around them, and Howard, still fast asleep in his own bed. This was a first. Normally Vince slept hours later than Howard did.

Vince stretched a little under the covers, remembering what had happened last night. He shuddered delicately as he thought of those men who had attacked them – but then he thought of Noel stepping in to protect him. And then he thought of himself and Noel on the dance floor…

He didn't want to get too carried away when Howard was in the room, so, to make sure he couldn't, he got out of bed, wrapping his duvet round himself, and went across to Howard's bed. He poked his friend's shoulder. "Morning, Howard."

Howard groaned like an extra in a zombie movie. "Urgh…"

"Alright?" Vince asked, settling himself on the bed.

"No…" Howard moaned.

"What's up?"

"I think… think I'm gonna die…"

Vince suddenly remembered Howard had drunk vodka. "No, Howard, you just got a hangover…"

"Is that another word for a brain tumour? Cos that's what I feel like I've got…" Howard whimpered.

Vince giggled lightly, but he reached out and patted Howard's arm. "Nah. Just means you drank too much."

"Too much what? Cyanide?"

"Vodka, Howard." Vince patted his friend's arm again. "Look, I'll get ya some water…"

He got up off the bed and padded through the bathroom. There were some glasses in there, provided by the hotel. Vince filled one with water and went back into the bedroom. Howard was holding his forehead, looking rather pale. "Thanks…" he mumbled, as Vince reappeared.

Vince helped Howard drink some of the water, and then put the glass carefully on the floor. He settled back on the mattress.

"What happened last night?" Howard asked. He sounded like he was in very serious pain.

"Well, we went out…"

"I remember all that… I remember up to passing out on the club floor…"

"We got you back to the car." Vince hesitated, wondering whether to tell Howard what had happened. He knew the other man would only worry. But he didn't want to feel like he was keeping secrets… "I almost got assaulted by these guys –"

"What?" Howard asked, sounding alarmed.

"– but it was okay, Noel protected me, and then Julian beat 'em up!" Vince's eyes shone as he recounted this.

Howard studied him. "Really?"

"Yeah!" Vince looked down at the jazz maverick. "Howard, I know you're freaked cos they look so like us… and it is a bit weird, I know… but I was thinkin'…"

"You were thinking? You know how to do that?"

"Oi!" Vince gave Howard a playful punch, but he was glad his friend seemed to be recovering slightly. "Yeah, actually. I was thinkin', maybe, in this parallel world or whatever, there's, like, parallel people."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, I mean, like, there's a parallel each one of us. So Noel's like the parallel me, and Julian's the parallel you… and there'll be a parallel Naboo and a parallel Bollo somewhere, and parallel everyone else too!"

Howard was about to make a cutting comment, and then realised that Vince's idea was actually quite good.

"Did you come up with that on your own?" he asked.

"Yeah!" Vince grinned.

"You know," Howard said, "Perhaps you're right… so they're like us but they're different, because they're from another world…"

"Yeah!"

"I think you're onto something, little man."

Vince grinned.

"Just as long as we don't meet a parallel Bob Fossil…"

Vince laughed.

-----

Next door, Julian woke up to see Noel standing by the window, muttering, "Fuck…"

"What?" he asked.

Noel turned round. "Oh, you're awake…"

"Fuck what?" Julian asked, pushing his hair back off his face, feeling, as usual, slightly shoddy next to glamorous, made-up Noel. Now, he normally wouldn't bother to ask what was bothering him. But after last night…

_Night, Ju._

"Fuck what?" he asked again.

"Nothin'."

"Oh, come on. What is it?"

"It's nothin' to do with you," Noel snapped.

Julian rolled his eyes. Did he dream what Noel had said last night? "Did you just realise that you spent the whole of yesterday evening in a club practically getting off with yourself?"

"You shut it!" Noel snarled. Then he sighed. "No," he said, probably because he wanted to stop Julian asking questions more than anything else, "I just remembered that show I'm meant to do… I forgot all about it cos of all this crap…"

"What show?"

Noel flapped something he was holding at Julian. A flyer.

"Ah," said Julian, seeing what it said. "Another pretty man for you to make out with."

Noel pulled a face.

"At least he isn't you this time."

"Fuck off, you're just jealous," Noel growled, and stalked out of the room.

Julian sighed and rolled over and looked at the ceiling.

The bitch, it seemed, was back.

But…

_Night, Ju._

-----

Howard seemed to be in a better mood that day.

Once he'd finally got up and had been plied with painkillers by Vince, that was.

He sat on the sofa next to his electro friend, at first looking a bit like a rabbit about to be eaten by a fox – but at least he was out of the room – but gradually he got more talkative.

He and Julian started chatting about jazz again.

Vince watched them, almost wistfully. He knew nothing about jazz so he couldn't join in the chat. From what he could work out, Julian was telling Howard about some jazz club in London.

Noel had only appeared for breakfast (in the room, as usual – they didn't risk going downstairs to eat). Then he'd gone back to his room, muttering about phone calls. Now it was almost lunchtime and he still hadn't reappeared.

Vince missed him.

He missed his face, his soft-looking hair, his smile and his laugh…

Vince thought about last night.

How he and Noel had danced.

How it had felt so… so… so like nothing he'd ever felt before.

Maybe Noel didn't feel like that.

But, just as he was thinking this, the door rattled, and Noel came in.

Vince almost leapt up off the sofa – but Noel wasn't looking at him. He was looking at Julian.

"Julian."

Julian looked round. "I'm kinda busy at the moment, Noel."

"Julian, it's important."

Julian groaned. He was such a pushover. Noel said, "Jump." Julian jumped.

He got up off the sofa, telling Howard he'd be back in a minute. Howard was okay, actually. Julian had thought he was a bit boring.

Sad, he thought, when he's me. That must mean everyone who knows me thinks I'm boring. If you met yourself and were bored by him, it was a sure sign something was wrong with you.

Noel was holding the bedroom door open. He wanted them to go out into the corridor. Julian stalked out and Noel followed, shutting the door behind them.

"What do you want?" Julian asked.

"Look," Noel said, "This show. I can't get out of doing it. It's for charity. They say I've been listed on the bill and people have booked to see me –"

"Not just you," Julian reminded him.

"Me _and_ everyone else." Noel glared. "They say people will want their money back if I'm not there, and obviously they can't have that, cos it's for charity…"

"So what's the problem?"

"It's tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Julian yelped. "And you only just thought about it now?"

"I told you, I forgot! But will it be okay, for you to stay here with Howard and Vince, if I go tomorrow evening?"

Julian sighed, and nodded. "Yes, all right – I'll baby-sit."

To his surprise, Noel suddenly laughed. "It did sound a bit like they're our kids, didn't it?"

"Yeah." Julian smiled at Noel, and Noel smiled rather tentatively back.

_Night, Ju._

-----

"Vince!"

"Whoa, Howard!" Vince spun round. He'd only come into the bedroom to re-do his hair. "What're you following me for? You sneakin' up on me, hopin' to see me naked…?"

"Julian wants to go out!"

"_What?_" Vince was totally confused.

"He wants us to go out – me and him, I mean – he wants us to go to that jazz club he was telling me about!"

"Oh!" Vince grinned. "You should go!"

Howard bit his lip.

"What? You love jazz!"

"Yes, I know, but…"

"Don't you like him?"

"It's not that…"

"C'mon, Howard! They're okay! I know they freak you out but they really are okay, honest. Julian, he beat up those guys last night, I told you."

Howard still didn't look happy.

"This is why you have no friends!" Vince said.

"How dare you?" Howard said. "I do have friends!"

"You got me," Vince said. "I mean, of course, I count for more than one, but…"

"I don't want to leave you on your own, if you must know!" Howard snapped, going red.

Vince blinked, thrown off-beat.

Howard was turning even redder.

"But…" Vince said eventually. "I won't be on my own… I'll be with Noel…" He tailed off a little as the full meaning of this took weight, and his stomach turned over.

Howard was looking at him. Vince guessed what he was worried about.

"Howard, what d'you think we're gonna do? Make out rampantly all over the sofa?"

"Vince…"

"Well, of course," Vince said, smiling, "We might. Mods do it better, you know, and as there's two of us…"

"Vince, please!"

"Howard, I'm jokin'!" Vince thought he was joking. "It'll be fine! Go!"

Howard swallowed hard.

-----

_That evening._

"Remind me again why you suggested this little trip?" Julian muttered to Noel.

"Cos he's terrified," Noel said. "And if they're gonna sit tight with you tomorrow night, I really think it's better if he gets used to you."

"Yeah, yeah," Julian sighed, "But still… suppose someone notices?"

"Ju – Julian, they won't notice. They didn't yesterday." There it went again, the nickname. Noel cursed himself silently. Fortunately, again, Julian didn't seem to have noticed. And at that moment, Howard and Vince appeared.

"Alright?" Vince said, grinning.

Julian, feeling nastily as though he was going on a date – with himself – turned to Howard and said, "Ready?"

"Yeah," Howard said, looking as uncomfortable as Julian felt.

"Have fun," Noel said, smiling.

"Noel…" Julian muttered. "Don't…"

"What?"

"Never mind."

"Bye, then!" Noel tried to get them out of the door. And, after about five minutes, Julian and Howard were gone.

--------------------------

"Thought they'd never leave," Noel sighed, as the door closed.

He turned back to Vince, who was smiling at him – but not his usual huge grin. Now he looked a little shy. He reached up and curled a strand of his silky black hair round one of his fingers. He blinked, like he'd made the decision to do it: momentarily shutting off the light from his big blue eyes with his sooty lashes…

"Let's do something," Noel said, thinking this staring at Vince in silence had gone on too long. He didn't really trust himself. He wiped his hands on his trousers – just because, not because he was sweating, of course – and stood up.

"'Kay," Vince said. He looked at Noel expectantly.

Great. Now he had to think of something for them to do. This was difficult, when Noel's mind was only screaming one thing…

Vince ran his hand down over his hair self-consciously, his coy little smile flickering, as though he might break into his usual cheeky grin at any moment. The tension of waiting was almost unbearable. Noel swallowed – and then watched as Vince's big eyes suddenly got bigger. "My hair's gone wavy!"

"No, it hasn't." Vince's hair looked perfect.

"It has, at the back – I can feel. Look!" Vince turned round. He was right, one bit of his hair had un-straightened itself a little. "Yeah, you need to go over it with the straightners or something," Noel said.

Vince sighed. "It's at the back so it's always so awkward…"

"I'll do it!" Noel didn't know where that came from, but it was out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Instantly he wanted to take it back. He didn't trust himself with Vince's perfect hair – even though it was kind of his hair – he still didn't trust himself not to mess it up. Vince's hair was very beautiful – and anyway, he'd have to touch those shiny, black strands…

But Vince was smiling again. "'Kay," he said, like he wasn't really bothered, but his blue eyes twinkled.

There was a short silence.

"Can we play some music?" Vince asked.

"What?" Noel asked, jerking himself back to vague levels of awareness.

"Can we play some music?"

"Oh. Yeah. I'll plug my iPod in the stereo… you get the, um, the…"

"Straightners."

"Yeah. Those."

"Okay." Vince skipped off towards the door to get the straightners from Noel's room, while Noel cursed all the things he could think of to curse that he'd got into this situation and set about plugging his iPod into the stereo. Maybe this staying with Vince hadn't been such a good idea after all. He should have thought about it before. You idiot, he thought. What had he been hoping would happen? What? _What?_

Vince came dancing back in just as he put on some music. A familiar beat filled the room.

"Human League!" Vince said happily.

Noel grinned, too the straightners from Vince and went to plug them in.

"_You were working as a waitress in a cocktail bar, when I met you…_"

"We can play decent stuff without those jazz idiots around," Vince said, going to sit down on the sofa.

"Yeah."

"Though Julian, he likes Gary Numan…" Vince shook his head wonderingly, still struggling to believe that someone who looked like Howard could like anything as cool as Gary Numan.

Noel chuckled a bit at his expression.

"_Now five years later on you've got the world at your feet, success has been so easy for you…_"

Suddenly, he thought about Julian properly. This was the longest amount of time they'd spent together in quite some time. A month? Two months? Longer? How long had this all been going on for? Noel couldn't remember. It felt like forever.

"_Don't, don't you want me? You know I can't believe it when I hear that you won't see me. Don't, don't you want me? You know I don't believe you when you say that you don't need me…_"

But at the same time, it really didn't. Noel could remember what it was like before as clearly as if it was yesterday.

And talking of yesterday, when he'd used the old nickname yesterday, and again today… it had almost – it had felt so… so natural.

"_It's much too late to find, you think you change your mind, you'd better change it back or we will both be sorry…_"

"Let's listen to something else," Noel said, leaping up.

"What? I thought you liked Human League," Vince said, looking confused.

"Yeah…" Noel struggled for a reason. "This song's so commercial, though. Everyone knows it." He flicked forward a few tracks.

Vince recognised the drum beat and grinned, nodding his head.

"_It's a beautiful night, the cold breeze in the air…_"

"Genius," Vince said.

Their eyes met. They didn't smile this time. Noel could almost see the sparks between Vince's lashes…

"_I've got one thing to say to you (I guess you just don't realise), when you see me look at you (There's more than friendship in my eyes)_"

"I guess those straightners are warmed up by now," Noel said, hurrying across the room.

Vince leant his head back on the sofa and put his hand under his hair. The back of his neck was hot. He trailed his other hand on the carpet, trying to remind himself the earth was still there. His fingers touched something and he brought it up.

"Hey, you doin' a show?"

Noel, who had been looking at the straightners, turned. Vince was holding up that flyer he'd shown Julian earlier. It must have fallen out of Noel's pocket. "Oh, yeah. Tomorrow night."

"So you won't be here tomorrow night?"

"No, sorry," Noel said, wanting to turn away from those big blue eyes that seemed to be trapping him, pinning him where he was crouched by the straightners.

"Oh," Vince said softly.

"_Don't you know I want you? Don't you know I want you?_"

"The straightners are ready!" Noel said, too loudly. He leapt up and brought them over.

Vince's stomach was starting to knot up and he wasn't entirely sure why. Noel sat down on the sofa next to him, making it dip towards his weight. He held the straightners in one hand. Vince saw him swallow. "Right. Turn round then." His tongue played on his lips, nervously.

Vince could only look at him for another few seconds.

Then he darted forwards and kissed him quickly on the mouth.

For a few seconds there was total silence. Vince moved his lips away but their faces were still close, so close their noses touched and their eyelashes almost got tangled together as they blinked. Noel looked at Vince rather blearily, eyes not entirely focusing. He took one breath, another breath…

Then he dropped the straightners with a clunk on the floor and his fingers dug into Vince's face, and his lips went over Vince's, and they were soft but they didn't feel soft, because the kiss was hot and wet and gasping, and Noel's tongue went into his mouth… Vince wondered if his head was going to explode, but he didn't care, and if it did he only had a few moments left to enjoy himself, so he kissed Noel back as hard as he could. Noel's chest came down on top of his as he pushed Vince back against the arm of the sofa, which was hard against Vince's back in a way that just made this more exciting. Vince let his tongue slide over Noel's and Noel gasped, hesitating for a moment, and then his hands seized the collar of Vince's shirt, their bodies twisting against each other as they gasped and trembled. Vince's hand got under Noel's shirt and his nails scraped down Noel's back, lower, lower…

Noel pulled back for a moment and looked down at the man underneath him. Vince's hair was rumpled, the layers falling over each other untidily, but still sexily. His eyes were slightly wild and his mouth was redder usual and wet. He looked up at Noel, breath rushing in and out. He reached up and pushed Noel's fringe back from his forehead.

"'Kay?"

"Wow," was all Noel could say.

Vince sat up a little. His nose bumped against Noel's affectionately. He put his hands behind Noel's head and he started kissing him again, properly, one kiss, another, down over his jaw, another kiss on his mouth… Noel could almost here that stupid music they'd played on the TV show… was this how Howard had felt? Or was it Julian? He was confused and it was hard to think straight with Vince's lithe body pressed up against his, one leg twining round his…

"What 'bout your hair?" he asked, against Vince's mouth, his words humming a little because of the closeness.

Vince gave a faint giggle. "It's all mucked up now anyway, innit?"

They sat close together in silence for a second.

"You can do it anyway, if you want…"

Noel felt for the straightners on the floor. They'd heated up quite a lot since he'd dropped them, so the heat went through into his hand. "Come on, then…"

Vince turned round, shifting back up against Noel, sitting half on his lap and half between his legs. Noel swallowed and tried to focus – but he couldn't stop himself pressing his mouth against the back of Vince's neck. He heard Vince laugh again, softly.

They sat close together in silence for a second.

"You can do it anyway, if you want…"

Noel felt for the straightners on the floor. They'd heated up quite a lot since he'd dropped them, so the heat went through into his hand. "Come on, then…"

Vince turned round, shifting back up against Noel, sitting half on his lap and half between his legs. Noel swallowed and tried to focus – but he couldn't stop himself pressing his body closer to Vince's, his mouth against the back of Vince's neck. He heard Vince laugh again, softly.

He put his hand in the silky strands of Vince's hair and closed the straightners around it. Vince leant back against him. Noel pulled the straightners down through his hair – and then stopped. Vince's head was against his shoulder. He ran his fingers over Vince's hair, stroking it. Vince wriggled eve closer, right up against him, making a faint purring sound.

"Y'know, I think your hair's fine…" he muttered, voice slightly lowered.

"Mmm…" Vince tilted his head up, eyes fluttering shut, and Noel kissed him. One kiss. But one kiss became another kiss, and another kiss – Vince brought his hand up to Noel's face, holding them together – and another kiss – Vince turned round properly to face him, and lay against him, kissing Noel's neck… Noel's hands slipped under Vince's shirt and found his stomach and stroked it. Nice stomach… Noel had forgotten it was his own. Vince smiled and kissed him again…

--------------------------

There was a sudden crash, and they both jumped and almost fell off the sofa in a tangle of limbs.

The door of the hotel room had burst open, and Howard staggered through it, eyes wide, hair all over the place, clutching something in his hand. Julian rushed in behind him, looking panicked.

"Vince!" Howard shouted – and then saw the two men on the sofa.

"Get away from him!" he yelled, rushing over and seizing Noel's arms, dragging him off the sofa, away from Vince.

"Get off me!" Noel struggled away, on his knees, on the carpet.

"Howard, what the hell are you doin'?" Vince asked, struggling up into a sitting position, his lips slightly swollen.

"What are _you_ doing?" Howard yelped back. "With – with – oh God, Vince."

"It's none of your business!" Vince snapped, red in the face.

"Oh yes, it is," Howard said.

"What are you on about?"

Howard threw something down in front of Vince. "That's what I'm on about," he snarled.

Vince peered at what Howard had thrown down in front of him.

Julian was staring at Noel.

Noel glared at him, and then crawled towards Vince. "What is it –? " and then he saw what it was.

Vince was holding a DVD case, peering at it. It was purple. The words "The Mighty Boosh 3" were visible on the front cover.

Vince's eyes widened.

"Oh my God…" Noel muttered. He glanced quickly at Julian, who was looking helpless. Howard was clutching his hair. "You see now? You see now, Vince?" he said.

"I'm on TV!" said Vince suddenly. His face split into a huge grin, and he waved the DVD case at Noel. "Noel, look, I'm on TV!"

"Vince!" Howard exploded.

But even Vince seemed to have realised there was something wrong. He was frowning again. "But… how… how am I on TV…?" He flipped the DVD case over.

There was silence while Vince's eyes darted along the lines of text on the back.

Then he looked up. His eyes were suddenly very huge and confused.

"Now do you get it?" Howard growled.

But Vince didn't look at Howard. He looked at Noel. "Noel… Noel, why does it say… why are our names listed together like that? Noel?"

Noel didn't reply. He didn't know how to reply.

Howard, completely sick of Vince's constant bleating of "Noel, Noel", and wanting to get Vince away from both of these men, seized his friend by the wrist and pulled him up off the sofa. "Come on, Vince, we're leaving."

"No!" Julian sprang forwards at that. "No, you can't! You can't walk around; what if someone sees –?"

"What? Sees your television characters in the street?" Howard shouted, holding Vince behind him. Vince clutched Howard's arm, looking frightened.

"Julian, what did you do?" Noel yelled.

"We were early to the jazz club," Julian growled. "I thought maybe we'd go into HMV, look at some CDs… big mistake; they had that on this stand…"

"Oh yeah, big mistake."

"Vince, come on."

"Noel, do something!" Julian cried.

"Vince – don't go," Noel said, stepping towards Vince.

Vince hesitated.

For a horrible moment, Howard thought he was going to go back to Noel.

But then Vince's eyes went back to the DVD, still lying on the sofa.

He grasped Howard's wrist. Howard nodded, rather triumphantly – and pulled Vince out of the door after him. Neither of them looked back. The door banged.

"Oh, Jesus Christ," Julian groaned. He looked at Noel. "And what the hell were you doing, rolling all over the sofa with – Noel? Noel, are you all right?"

Noel didn't answer. He was staring at the door where Vince had disappeared.

* * *

**Teehee. ****Thanks for reading.**

**Once again, if you want me to up the rating, I will!**

**violence x**


	11. Two Halves

**Hello hello hello! Back with an update, a week after last time... sorry about that.**

**Just like to say, thank you all so much for your lovely reviews, and thank you to everyone who has favourited this and put it on alert (every time I get an email saying someone's done that it makes me go all smiley).**

**And I'm glad you all seemed to enjoy the last chapter! Teehee.**

**Sorry this chapter's mostly dialogue, and also that it's a bit shorter than normal, but I thought it had reached a good stopping place. I have already started Chapter 12 so next update shouldn't be too long... I hope. I also hope it's convincing. Not having ever found out that my life was a TV show, I'm not really sure what the reaction would be. Obviously the reaction will continue into the next chapters, so anyway...**

**Disclaimer: it isn't mine but I do enjoy writing about it.**

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

_**"It's you and me, two halves of a complete person"**_

Howard and Vince ran.

They ran down the corridor of the hotel, down the stairs, not waiting for the lift, through the foyer – attracting some very strange looks from other people down there – out into the dark street outside, and away, down the pavement, still with Vince clutching Howard's wrist, tripping slightly in his high-heeled boots.

They ran the length of the road. They charged round a corner, and ran on, down the pavement, footsteps echoing so it sounded almost as though there were two identical people behind them chasing after them. They ran faster. They ran as though they wanted to outrun the echo. They sprinted across the street against the lights, cars hooting angrily – and on, faster, down more and more streets that all looked the same, a dull, lonely orange in the London street lights, the cold air stinging their faces, until they had no idea where they were any more…

"Howard –" Vince rasped eventually.

Howard ignored him. He hauled Vince on, round a corner, then round another, just running as fast as his legs would carry him, as though by getting far enough away he might make it all okay…

"Howard! I can't breathe!"

Howard ran on, almost blindly, only just avoiding crashing into a young couple, on and on…

"Howard!"

There was a sudden jerk on his arm. Howard was almost pulled over, only just managing to avoid going headlong. He staggered, clutching a nearby lamp post to steady himself. Spinning round clumsily, he saw that Vince had fallen on one of his heels, and was now half-kneeling in the road, hands on the paving stones, breath coming in agonised-sounding rasps.

"Vince?" Howard panted. "Vince, are you okay?"

Vince didn't answer. He seemed to be trying to get a grip on the ground. His back bent forward so his spine almost showed through his t-shirt – he hadn't had a chance to grab his jacket before they left.

"Vince?"

Vince finally looked up, and Howard stared at how – well – how _bad_ he looked. His hair was wild, partly from running so fast but also, Howard suspected, from what he'd been getting up to on the sofa. He was flushed and sweaty – and his eyes. His eyes were wide with fear and shock and exhaustion and something else – loss?

He held Howard's gaze for a few moments. Then he dropped his head again.

"Vince," Howard said. He went and stood over his friend, trying to look strong and confident, but in reality he too was so breathless that he just wanted to stagger over and collapse on the pavement next to Vince. And more than that; far, far more than that –

"Vince, we've got to go." He didn't want to think it. He didn't want to remember. He wanted to run forever.

Vince looked up at him. "Go where, Howard?"

"What?"

"Where the hell are we goin'?" Vince's voice rose a pitch with emotion, and then cracked painfully. He lowered his eyes again.

Howard didn't answer.

He couldn't answer. He didn't know where they were going. He just knew – or rather, he just felt – that they had to _go_.

"Away," he said finally.

"Away where? Home? How are we gettin' 'ome?"

"I –"

Vince looked up at him. His face seemed to be collapsing in on itself. Crumpling.

Those eyes were losing their sparkle. What Howard always dreaded most was finally happening.

"Vince –" He dropped down on his knees beside the smaller man. He reached out to touch his shoulder but Vince pulled away. He looked at Howard as though Howard was someone he hardly knew, or someone he vaguely remembered.

"Howard, what's goin' on?" he asked eventually.

"What?"

"I don't – I don't understand – where d'you find that box thing – and why are we – and – and –" Vince choked up and had to stop.

"You know what's going on, Vince; you saw it!"

"No, I don't – I don't understand –"

"Yes, you do!" Howard didn't want to repeat it. He couldn't repeat it. Repeating it made it real.

"I don't! I don't!" Vince protested.

"For God's sake, Vince!" Howard shouted. "Will you stop playing dumb? It's not cute, it's not funny, it's –"

"I'm not playing dumb! I don't understand! Why can't you just tell me –?"

"They're us!" Howard screamed.

There. He'd said it.

Vince was looking at him, somehow breathing more heavily now than he had been when they first stopped running.

He said it again. "They're us! You were wrong; there aren't parallel people or anything like that! There's nothing parallel about this at all! They created us; they –" He broke off as he realised, again, the full extent of what this meant, and his knees almost gave way. He sat down heavily on the kerb next to Vince.

No life. They had no real life. They were like puppets. They were controlled by whatever Noel and Julian decided to make them do. All his memories of his childhood, gone – it had never happened. All his adventures with Vince had just been part of a TV programme made to entertain people in this universe. Nothing was real.

Howard's head spun and he had to put a hand to his mouth, fearing he was going to be sick.

There was silence. Silence and the painfully lonely orange of the street, empty because it was late now, stretching away on either side of them, the broken white road line seeming to reach eternity.

It was as though they were alone in the world. Trapped in some sort of limbo existence.

Which, in a way, they were.

"How –?" Vince started eventually, nervously.

"How what?" Howard asked.

"How – how are they us –?"

Howard groaned and held his hair in his hands. It felt real. His hair felt real. The terrifying thing was he knew now that it shouldn't be.

"They're actors," he said.

Vince blinked at him. His eyes looked awful so empty. He couldn't have looked worse if they had been ripped right out, leaving empty bleeding sockets.

"You know, they're on television –"

"Yeah," Vince said. "Noel – Noel said – Noel –" He broke off and gripped one of his hands in the other, like he was trying to imagine someone else was holding it, comforting him.

Howard realised, suddenly, how awful this was for him.

"They're actors," he said again, almost not wanting to think about Vince's problem, and feeling guilty at the same time for neglecting it. "They're –"

"I know," Vince said. "They're on the telly. They're comedians; Noel told me. But wassat got to do with –?"

"That's the show," Howard said. "We are the show."

"But why are we the show?"

"I don't know; I didn't stop to ask, why did you make us up rather than writing other characters, did I?" Howard snapped. Then he sighed again. "I don't know. But we're the show."

"So – so people – like – watch our lives?"

"Yes."

"And –" Vince was frowning. "And – it's a – _comedy_?"

"Yes," Howard said, darkly.

"We're not funny," said Vince, after another few moments' pause.

"Apparently we are," said Howard.

There was silence.

"So –" Vince still seemed to be struggling. "So – I got off with myself."

"Vince –" Howard wasn't sure if he felt sorry for him, or exasperated that all he seemed to be thinking about was his love life.

"That must've been why it was so nice, then!" Vince said, suddenly giggling.

"Vince!" Howard yelled.

"I dunno, I guess it's not that weird – maybe it's just like a kinda extreme form of masturbation –"

"Vince, can't you ever take anything seriously?" Howard shouted, leaping up.

"D'you even know what masturbation is, Howard?" Vince asked, grinning at him.

"For Christ's sake, you shallow little –"

"No, no, I'm sorry," Vince said, serious again. "I'm sorry, Howard. 'Course you know what masturbation is."

Howard nodded. "Yeah, and maybe you'd like to go back to what we were talking about –"

"After all, that's the only gettin' off you ever do!" Vince cracked up.

"You bitch!"

"Well, it's true, innit?"

"Vince, for God's sake, I didn't think even you were this _stupid_ – this _childish_ –"

"What are you, my father?"

"Vince –"

"See, Howard, this is why when we do gigs, everyone says, get your dad off the stage, Vince. That and you look old."

Howard knew he shouldn't rise to it. But he could never deal with criticism at the best of time, and comments about his age were a particularly sensitive area. "I do not look old!" he yelled.

"Yeah, ya do!" Vince seemed almost pleased that he'd got Howard involved in the row. "You're goin' all grey, Howard."

"Yeah – well – well – you're going bald!" Howard shouted back, behaving just as childishly as Vince now, he could tell, but he didn't care.

"What? _What?_" Vince's hands flew to his raven locks.

"Yeah, you started losing your hair back at the flat and it didn't stop, and now you've got a bald patch!" Howard crowed.

"Where?" Vince shrieked, clawing at his head, trying to find it.

"Right at the back – it's really obvious to me, Vince, it's catching the light, looks all shiny –"

"No!" Vince moaned, still feeling around his head desperately.

"Your hands keep missing it –" But then Howard broke off, because Vince whipped out two mirrors, held one up behind his head, and held the other up so he could see the reflection in it.

Great. Trust Vince to be able to think logically when it came to his looks.

And when he turned back to Howard, Howard actually suddenly felt quite frightened at the look on his face. He'd never been frightened of Vince before. Exasperated, yes. Furious, yes. But never scared.

But now Vince looked positively murderous.

"Oh, you're for it now, small eyes!"

He rushed at Howard and seized his shirt, pushing him backwards against the lamp post Howard had originally grabbed for support. He grabbed a strand of Howard's hair and yanked hard.

Howard yelped, and kicked Vince's shins hard. Vince squealed and let go of him, and he was able to push the smaller man away. "For Christ's sake, Vince –"

"That fuckin' hurt, you geography teacher!"

"Well, it serves you right. Lashing out like a toddler –"

"You were the one sayin' I was goin' bald! And anyway, at least it's not true! You really are grey, Howard. You're grey and old and _boring_."

"I'd rather be boring than so colourful I'm practically sight pollution!"

"If anyone's sight pollution it's you, you great Northern pillock! No wonder you're a virgin; what woman would wanna look up and see your mug hangin' above her in the dark –?"

Howard had to fight very, very hard to control himself. "You're just too shallow and stupid to understand about how adults work, Vince," he said.

"Yeah, well, I should've let the bin men 'ave you!"

"And I should have let that jazz virus stay inside you!"

"I should've let Old Gregg keep ya!"

"I should have let the Head Shaman kill you!"

"I should've left you in Monkey Hell!"

"I should've gone with Lance Dior!"

Vince's mouth dropped open at that. "You –!"

"After all," Howard yelled, "I reckon he made a better you than you did!"

Vince went bright red in the face. "No-one makes a better me than I do!" he screamed.

At that, Howard just couldn't stop himself.

"Noel makes a better you than you do!"

Vince's eyes widened. "You bastard." His voice was low with shock and fury.

"He does. And you clearly think that as well, don't you, Vince?"

"You –"

"I really don't understand you." He mimicked Vince's South London accent: "Lance Dior, 'e's a right prick, 'e's just like me. Noel Fielding, ooh, in' 'e gorgeous, _'e's just like me_ – argh!" He ended on a cry because Vince charged at him, crashing into him so hard that they both went sprawling on the pavement. "Don't you _dare_ compare Noel to Lance Dior, you fuckin' nonce! I'll kill ya!"

"They both make better yous than you do!" Howard shouted, struggling to push Vince off.

Vince seized his collar, looking homicidal. "I'd rather 'ave Julian than you!" He tried to thump Howard's head on the pavement. Fortunately Vince wasn't very strong, so he couldn't do it that hard, but it still hurt.

"Well, off you go then, you electro whore; I don't care!" Howard shouted, trying to get his knee up between Vince's legs.

"Yes, ya do!" Vince attempted another thumping of Howard's head on the paving stones. "You do care, because your life would be so boring without me! You need me! You wouldn't 'ave anything if you weren't with me! You wouldn't 'ave –" And then Vince broke off.

He made a faint gasping sound – or maybe Howard just imagined that.

But he stopped trying to bang Howard's head on the road. After a few seconds he slipped quickly off of his friend.

"Vince?" Howard asked, thoroughly confused now.

He looked up. Vince was sitting back, staring at Howard, one hand catching just below his mouth, eyes big with emotion.

"Vince? I thought you were killing me." Howard wasn't too keen to get close to Vince; this might just be a ploy to make Howard think everything was okay. He edged back a little bit.

But Vince was shaking his head. "We sound just like them," he said.

"What?"

"We – we sound just like them – I sound just like _him_ – Noel."

There was silence.

The road now seemed even emptier than ever, without their shouting.

"Vince –" Howard started, finally, with no idea what he was going to say, just because the silence made him feel like something was creeping up on them, watching them, and he wanted to break it.

But as soon as he spoke, Vince looked up at him. "I didn't mean it, Howard," he said.

Howard blinked at him suspiciously.

"I didn't!" Vince said. He shuffled forwards on his knees slightly – and bit his lip when Howard drew back away from him again. "Howard," he said, and his voice was low and quivering. "Howard, I didn't mean it. I was just tryin' to get to ya – I – I dunno why –" He blinked and swallowed. "I'm sorry."

Howard stared at him. Vince never apologised for anything.

"Hey, little man," he said, nervously. He'd totally forgotten how much Vince had actually insulted him during their argument, because he was so shocked at his self-absorbed friend's sudden regard for somebody else – and also all the different emotions that had been spinning around since they ran away from the hotel had left him feeling quite giddy. "It's okay."

"It's not okay," Vince said. "We sounded like they do." He looked at Howard. His sooty lashes, usually soft, delicate dark curtains over his eyes, were now wet and spiked together with tears. "I don't want us to get like them, Howard," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"They hate each other, Howard," Vince said. "And I sounded just like Noel, sayin' that stuff to you – I don't want us to hate each other."

"Oh, Vince," Howard said. "I could never hate you."

Vince flicked his tongue over his mouth like a nervous child, and looked at Howard shyly. "I don't hate you either – and I don't think you're a geography teacher or that you're ugly or anythin' else –"

"Yes, you do," Howard said. "But it doesn't matter."

"I don't _really_," Vince said. "It's just a joke. And anyway, if you weren't a bit like that, you wouldn't be Howard. My Howard."

"Yeah, well," said Howard, rather gruffly, because although he was getting a lump in his throat and all he wanted to do was hug his skinny little friend, he wasn't very good with deeply emotional situations and he never knew how to react properly. "If you weren't an electro whore you wouldn't be Vince."

"Your Vince?" Vince pressed.

"Yeah."

Vince shuffled towards him again, tentatively. This time Howard didn't pull away, so Vince put his arms round his friend's neck and snuffled into his shoulder.

Howard didn't like people touching him. Not most of the time, anyway. But this was different. His arms went round Vince and held him close. He felt so small. So vulnerable. Howard wanted to gather him up and make sure nothing hurt him. He stroked Vince's back and Vince nuzzled into his neck.

They stayed hugging on the pavement for quite some time.

Finally, Vince drew back a bit. He gave Howard a very sweet, very shy smile.

"Hey, little man," Howard said. "Don't worry. We're not like them."

"Even though they're us?" Vince asked.

Howard swallowed. "We're not like them," he said, determinedly. "We won't ever get like them, yeah?"

"Yeah," Vince said, smiling – but his eyes shone again.

"Oi, you." Howard reached out and wiped his thumbs under Vince's eyes. "No crying. There's nothing to cry about. We're okay. It's you and me, two halves of a complete person, like always, remember?"

Vince grinned, and leant his head against Howard's shoulder again.

They sat in silence for a few moments.

Then: "Howard?"

"Yes, little man?"

"What are we gonna do?"

Howard sighed. "I don't know, Vince."

"Howard – I still don't get – how can they be us?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, look at me; I'm real." Vince held up his hands as though trying to prove that they existed. "Why do we – why do we even exist, if we're just characters off the telly?"

Howard had to admit that he didn't know that.

He realised it was a question Noel and Julian should probably be asking, not him and Vince.

Because Vince was right. They shouldn't exist.

But they did, and they had a problem.

"Vince, do you think we could find our way back to Noel's house?" he said slowly.

"Yeah – but what good's that gonna do?"

"Well, I'm not sure, but it's the only place there's been a way to get home, so I thought we might as well start there…"

Vince nodded. "A'right. We'll try and find Noel's –" His voice broke slightly.

"Vince –"

"No," Vince said, shaking his head. "I gotta – I shouldn't –"

"Vince, I know what you think about him –"

Vince screwed up his face, shaking his head again, and turned away. Howard could tell he didn't want to talk about. He decided not to press it. He looked down the road instead, not wanting Vince to feel like he was being observed constantly.

Then he felt Vince suddenly start next to him.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Howard," Vince said, sounding frightened.

"What?"

"Howard, there's someone – there's someone movin' down that alley."

"What?" Howard turned round. Vince was pointing to a narrow street behind them, with dustbins standing precariously round the entrance. It was a menacing black down there, without the presence of street lights. But Howard couldn't see anything that looked alive.

"Vince, I can't –" But, at that moment, a shadow shifted, somewhere close to one of the walls that enclosed the little street. A large shadow.

"Howard –" Vince clutched Howard's arm, his nails digging into Howard's skin.

There was more movement. A faint rattle, as if something had bumped a dustbin further down the alley way.

"Hello?" Howard called, getting up slowly, to be able to run. Vince struggled up next to him, still gripping his arm.

There was silence from down the alley.

"Hello?"

There was the sound of a footstep on pavement.

"Howard!" Vince squeaked, sounding terrified.

Howard drew Vince back protectively, keeping one arm between him and whatever it was. "Look," he called, "Whoever you are, it's not funny, right? Just –"

There was a sudden coughing and rasping sound from down the alley. It sounded like someone was choking.

Howard and Vince exchanged bewildered looks.

"Hello?" Howard called.

The rasping continued.

"That sounds like – like someone's havin' an asthma attack –" Vince started – and then his eyes widened.

And then, a muttering voice came: "You ball bag! I said be quiet! This could be that Noel and Julian!"

"Sorry," grumbled a deeper voice, and then there was the sound of someone inhaling deeply. Sucking something in. A dark shape lumbered forwards, emerged from the alley, and leant against the wall. It was large, black and furry. It held an inhaler in one paw.

"Bollo!" Vince cried.

* * *

**Thanks for reading.**

**We've got a "guest appearance" coming up in the next chapter or two... hehe.**

**Regarding "Bliss", it is still going, but I'm not making any promises about when it will be updated. It will happen at some point, I swear, hopefully quite soon.**

**violence x**


	12. Two Days

**We have returned!! First off, I'd just like to say I'm really sorry that I only started reviewing today, but the website was broken and wouldn't let me review before. So I'm still trying to get through all your wonderful stories! Bear with me!!**

**Secondly, some notes:  
- Sorry this chapter is SO long. It was essential for plot. Please keep going with it!  
- I apologise for the Level 42 joke, but it needed to be done.  
- Alexandra is my character.**

**Disclaimers:  
- The Mighty Boosh and its characters are owned by Julian Barratt and Noel Fielding, who make me feel better when I feel ill (they do!! Honestly!! The Boosh is medicinal!!)  
- Level 42 is owned by god-on-earth Mark King & co.  
- Our little guest star at the end is not owned by me either. Fortunately. He'd piss me off if he was living in my bedroom!  
- The bit about Vince watching the TV show came from a suggesting stars of andromeda made a few reviews back, about having Howard and Vince watch the show. I felt Vincey needed to atone for his behaviour on series 3 so this is my way of him doing it! Apologies if I make anyone vomit with my sad attempts at fluffy stuff.**

**Now let's go! Long A/N for long chapter!**

* * *

**Chapter Twelve**

**_"We've got two days. Two days to convince them"_**

The next few moments were chaos: Howard gasping with shock and relief, Vince rushing to hug the ape – "Bollo! Bollo, you're here!" "Precious Vince! Safe! Bollo so worried!" – and Naboo (for it was he) emerging in all his blue, disgruntled glory from the alley, arms folded.

"Oh my God," said Howard weakly, and he clutched the lamp post to stop himself falling over. "You almost gave us both heart attacks!"

"What are you guys doin' here?" Vince was laughing, still in Bollo's arms. "You freaked us out, sneakin' about in the shadows like that!"

Howard looked at Naboo. The shaman was still glaring, still with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Naboolio!" he tried. "Good to see you, even if you did –"

"What the hell did you two think you were doin'?" Naboo asked.

"What?"

"Goin' through gateways into other worlds," said Naboo. "I've known you two get into some messes but this is a record. Do you have any idea of the damage you might have caused? That gateway was unstable enough anyway, without you going into the wrong dimension."

"What?" Vince asked, pulling away from Bollo. "Speak English, you gnome – what's a dimension?"

Naboo shook his head in exasperation. "You know what I'm gonna have to do?"

"Oh no, Naboo, please…" said Howard.

"I'm gonna have to turn my back on you," said Naboo.

And he did.

There was silence while the jazz maverick and the mod stared at the shaman's blue shoulders and turban.

"Naboo?" Howard asked eventually.

"Naboo very stressed," Bollo told them, from by the wall where he was leaning, recovering from his asthma attack, which had been slightly worsened by the emotion of being reunited with precious Vince. "Come to new world. Strange magic happening and he too tired to impress bar girl –"

"What?"

"Huh?" Bollo grunted.

"What did you say about a bar girl?" Vince asked.

"Naboo meet bar girl," said Bollo. "Go all funny in head."

Vince laughed. "Naboo met a girl? Howard, Naboo met a girl – imagine that!"

"He hasn't done anything with this girl, has he?" Howard asked Bollo, thinking that there had already been enough problems with inter-dimensional romances on this trip.

"Not yet," Bollo said. "She's waiting with the carpet, round corner. Couldn't park here. All residents' parking on this street."

"She's here?" Vince asked, apparently not noticing the similarities between Naboo and the bar girl and himself and Noel that Howard was. "He must be keen! So must she."

"Yes," said Bollo. "And bar girl tell Naboo very interesting things. Things about two men, Noel and Julian –"

Howard and Vince jumped.

"She knows!" Vince squeaked. His hand fluttered to his mouth, and Howard wasn't sure he wanted to imagine what Vince was thinking of, touching himself there.

"We've got to talk to her," Howard said. "Naboo –" He turned to find the shaman still facing the wall. "Come on, Naboo, I think you've made your point now."

"We're sorry, Naboo," said Vince. "But it was all Howard's idea."

"What? You were the one panicking about murderers in your wardrobe!"

"Shut it, that's well embarrassing –"

Naboo turned round.

"I thought you'd never ask me to look at you," he said. He was still glaring, but seemed less annoyed. "Let that be a lesson to you."

Vince and Howard nodded, trying to look meek and apologetic.

"Right," said Naboo. "I've found us a place to stay. We've got a lot to talk about."

"We definitely do," Howard agreed.

"This way," Naboo said, pointing.

The strange foursome made their way down the road and round the corner.

"Naboo, what were you doin', sneakin' about like that?" Vince asked.

"We couldn't be too careful, Vince," said Naboo. He glanced at the mod. "I wasn't sure it was you –" He broke off and sighed. "I'll explain when we've got somewhere to rest."

Vince nodded. He couldn't help noticing that Naboo really did look very tired. His shaman robes somehow didn't seem to shine as brightly here.

They went round the corner. There was the magic carpet, parked neatly in a space. And sitting on it was –

"It's you!" Vince cried, recognising Alexandra.

Howard recognised her too. She was the girl who'd come out and been babbling into her phone about Vince. Now he realised why she must have been so confused. A man who claimed to know nothing about Noel Fielding but was exactly like his television character? Howard didn't blame her for her reaction.

Alexandra smiled, but in a rather nervous way. She was clearly finding this experience somewhat bewildering, riding around London on a flying rug with characters from a TV programme she liked. Not exactly an everyday occurrence.

"This is Alexandra. She's agreed to let us stay at her flat," Naboo said, in his usual deadpan way – but Howard and Vince both noticed he seemed slightly flushed. But surely Naboo, a shaman with a mind like a fortress, couldn't really be blushing over a girl? It must just be the light.

Naboo himself had got onto the magic carpet next to Alexandra, who smiled at him, and motioned for the others to join them. Howard and Vince got on behind the shaman and the girl, with Bollo at the back.

"Right," said Naboo. "Tell the carpet your address, Alexandra."

Alexandra nodded and did so, and the carpet sailed gracefully into the air – making a local alcoholic who had been addicted to the bottle for twenty years and who happened to be looking out of his window decide that he would never drink again.

They soared over London, over the lights that seemed to float above the ground, gold, green and blue. They rounded the skyscrapers, passed the London Eye and Big Ben, and glided on towards Islington, where Alexandra lived.

Alexandra herself gazed over the edge of the carpet, thinking how lovely the city looked from so high up – and how bizarre this situation was. It had started off as any other day: she'd got up, dressed, and gone to work in the evening. And then... then Naboo entered. Naboo with his pale skin, his cheekbones and his huge brown eyes. Naboo looking for Vince. And suddenly she had realised that the stories she'd heard about gateways between worlds were true. Two men from another world were lost in this world, and she had told Naboo all she'd seen when Vince came to the pub a few nights previously. She'd also told him that this wasn't just any dimensional mix-up: there was a bigger problem here. These were characters from a television show. After that he'd wanted her to go with them. How could she refuse? She wanted to help them. There was, she told herself, no other reason. And she was on a carpet with them right now. She couldn't get her head round it. Flying over London with people who, strictly speaking, didn't exist.

Naboo was watching her.

He was picking things up from her. Shimmerings in the air. She'd said she wasn't a siren or a seraph but there was something – something there. Magic.

Or maybe that was just the way the strands of her hair slid over one another and caught the light as she moved her head...

Naboo knew nothing about love. He knew everything about most other things, but not love. Emotions in general always confused him, but love was the most confusing of all. Shamen didn't do love: they did anger, happiness, sadness, hurt, depression – everything else, no matter how weird it felt – but not really love. And he couldn't even turn to his non-magical friends for help. Vince was shallow and slept around, but he didn't fall in love. Howard had never even had a girlfriend. Bollo was more interested in his porn than in romance. Besides, since they'd left the zoo, Bollo had been surrounded only by humans, and inter-species dating was always difficult.

Howard was gripping the edge of the rug, too scared because of the flying to think about their situation – which was good, because otherwise he might have started giving himself Chinese burns again. He could see the way Naboo was looking at this girl – Alexandra – and he couldn't help worrying that he now had two love-struck friends to deal with. He could see the way Vince was gazing out at London. His shoulders were slightly slumped. Howard thought he could guess what Vince was thinking about.

Bollo had noticed Vince's expression and posture as well.

"Vince?" he asked, putting a paw on the small man's shoulder.

"Oh. Hey, Bollo," Vince said, smiling at his gorilla friend.

"Vince look sad. Not much like sunshine," Bollo said worriedly.

"Nah, don't worry. I'm not sad. Jus' thinkin'."

Bollo didn't look convinced – after all, thinking wasn't one of Vince's strengths – but he thought perhaps the mod didn't want to discuss it. "What Vince been up to in parallel universe?" he asked, to change the subject.

Vince grinned. "We found parallel Topshop," he said. "I got some clothes but we left 'em back where we were stayin'..." He sighed, but then smiled again. "Went on a bus with no roof. And I met –"

"Vince meet someone too?" Bollo asked, noticing how Vince had hunched his shoulders shyly and grinned sideways at him.

Vince gave a rather coy giggle and nodded.

"As bad as Naboo," said Bollo, rather fondly, and Vince giggled again. "Who is she? He?"

"He," Vince said, smiling. He had forgotten, for the moment, the problems with this situation in his excitement about telling his friend. "Oh, Bollo, he's wonderful!" he gushed, like a teenager describing their first boyfriend to their mother (which was a better comparison than it sounded, as this was the first time Vince had had anything resembling a proper relationship, and Bollo was quite motherly – or at least, he wore a flowery apron sometimes). "'E's so cool! 'E wears all these genius clothes – 'e looks like a rock star, but 'e's actually a TV star! 'E's got these huge blue eyes that just – ooh!" He squealed slightly, thinking about it. "'Is name's Noel and –"

"What level?" Naboo asked suddenly, and Vince and Bollo looked up as the carpet approached an apartment block.

"Oh," Alexandra turned round. "42. Level 42."

Howard, Vince, Bollo and Naboo all looked around for someone to start playing slap-bass so a joke could be made about Mark King – and then remembered this was a different world and things like that probably didn't happen here.

And Howard – Howard wasn't sure if anyone else had realised, but he'd realised: that must just be another one of the gags. Something else to make the people who watched Noel and Julian's television show laugh.

The carpet rose to level 42 of the apartment block, and flew round until they reached Alexandra's window. They paused next to it as she opened it for them.

"Right," said Naboo. "Vince first."

Vince crawled across the carpet, dangerously close to the edge, Howard thought with a sickening swirl in his stomach – and leapt, cat-like, through the window into the dark room beyond.

"Now you, Howard," Naboo said.

"Can't –?"

"Fine. Bollo, go in so you can help him."

Bollo grumbled, "Big Northern yellow coward", but he hauled himself through the window, joining Vince inside.

Howard went next – clutching Alexandra's arm with one hand and clinging to Bollo with the other. But he was eventually inside, and Alexandra and Naboo were left on the carpet.

"After you," Naboo said to her.

Alexandra took his arm and used it to balance as she climbed through.

Naboo watched as she slid into the flat. Then he swallowed and scrambled through himself. Turning back to the carpet, he muttered a few words, and it rolled itself up in mid-air into the tiny box it had come in, and flew inside, landing in his out-stretched hand.

"Wow!" he heard Vince's voice say, and turned round to see that the others had all gone into the room beyond the kitchen, which was the room they'd come into.

"I love these candles!" Vince was saying.

"Thanks," came Alexandra's reply, and there was a flickering light. The scent of incense filled the air.

Naboo went into the main room to join them – and then stopped.

He was confronted with a large bookshelf. And those books...

"Naboo? You okay?" Vince called. He was grinning by the candles, watching Alexandra light them. The whole room was full of flickering lights. Now, as Naboo looked around, he saw that as well as ordinary things like sofas and a television, Alexandra's living room had strange wall-hangings, charts, herbs in jars...

"What?" he muttered to himself.

"Naboo?" Vince asked again.

Naboo turned. "What's all this?" he asked.

"Oh," Alexandra smiled. "That's all my equipment and my books and everything."

"You're a –"

"I'm a Wiccan, yeah," she smiled. "I guess you know quite a lot about that."

Naboo hardly heard her. A magical being, in this world? But this world – it wasn't supposed to have magic in it. He could tell that from the atmosphere. But that must have been what was coming from Alexandra and creating the shimmerings in the air. There was magic here. What was going on?

"Cool!" Vince was saying. "Can you do spells like Naboo? Do you have anything for hair? Naboo's got his miracle wax and it's genius but I'm always lookin' for new products..."

"I could make all your hair fall out," Alexandra said, teasing because she knew from the television show that this would get to him.

Vince squealed.

"I'm joking! No, we don't perform bad spells. The bad luck comes back seven times over, so we only do it if it's really, really worth it."

Naboo was still struggling to take this in. An apparently normal girl – who watched TV shows like anyone else – but who was magical?

"Naboo?" Howard asked.

Naboo suddenly remembered that there were more pressing issues to focus on. He turned back to the others. "All of you, sit. We need to talk."

xxxxxxxx

_About an hour later._

"Right." Naboo was pacing up and down Alexandra's living room. The candles had burnt some, leaving thick, lumpy trails of wax down their sides. Vince was sitting on one end of Alexandra's sofa, with Howard at the other end and Bollo in between. Alexandra was perched on the arm of her chair nearby.

Naboo and Alexandra had told Howard and Vince all they knew about Noel and Julian, and Howard and Vince had told them everything that had happened in the past few days. Alexandra had got out all her Mighty Boosh DVDs for Naboo to examine. He'd been able to feel the breaking there, as he had in Noel's house. This confirmed that thing were falling apart. They'd been piecing everything together.

"So," Naboo was saying, "I think we've got all this worked out. Noel and Julian created our world, with us in it, when they made their TV show. Now, they want to stop making it, things are falling apart." He breathed out heavily, and turned back to the others, to find Howard with his hand raised.

"Yes?" Naboo said.

"How will we get home?"

"Well," Naboo said, "I can open another gateway between the worlds – but there are two problems –"

"What's that then?"

"Well, firstly, if we go home just like that, everything will fall apart –"

"What will happen to you guys?" Alexandra asked. "I mean, if the TV show does get cancelled."

Naboo swallowed. He looked at Vince, Howard and Bollo, and then back at Alexandra. "We'll die," he said, simply.

Vince made a gasping sound and clutched Bollo's fur.

"Do Noel and Julian know about this?" Howard asked.

"How should I know?" Naboo stared at the maverick. "You're the one who's spent time with them, not me. You're the one who told me they were thinking of cancelling the show in the first place."

"Yeah, how did you know that, Howard?" Vince asked.

"Julian told me when I found the DVD." Howard looked back at Naboo.

"Look," Naboo said, "I'm guessin' they don't know. After all, until a few days ago they didn't know you guys even existed, did they? You said they were pretty freaked out when you all met."

Howard nodded.

"I still don't get it," Alexandra said. "They've clearly already decided to cancel, if Julian's telling Howard about it. But you guys are all still alive."

Naboo frowned. "It's not official," he said, after a moment. "That's why things are falling apart gradually. They've got to make it official for us to get wiped out completely."

"Official!" Howard said suddenly. Everyone looked at him. "Julian – Julian said that, in about two days, they're signing some contracts – to terminate the show –" He looked at Naboo.

"Oh my God," Naboo muttered. He sat down heavily on the edge of the coffee table.

"Two days to convince them not to cancel!" Bollo grunted. "Lost cause!"

"It can't be a lost cause, Bollo!" Howard leapt up. "We'll die if it's a lost cause! I don't want to die! I've got so much to give!"

"I don't wanna die neither," Vince whimpered, and Bollo put a comforting paw on his shoulder.

"Then there's no choice," Alexandra said. "You'll have to go back to them and persuade them to think again. Surely once they know you'll die, they won't do it? Maybe you could compromise – just tell them not to end it officially or something – then you wouldn't get wiped out –"

Naboo was nodding. "That could work." He sighed and looked at the clock. "We've got two days. Two days to convince them."

Howard was looking at Naboo. "What was the other problem with us getting home?"

Naboo suddenly seemed embarrassed.

"Naboo lost spell book!" Bollo grunted.

"What?" Howard gasped.

"Bollo!" Naboo whined, suddenly sounding like a temperamental child.

"What does 'e need the book for?" Vince asked.

"I need it for the spells to open a gateway home."

"You don't know them by heart?" Howard asked.

"Hey," said Naboo. "I'm a shaman. I deal with hundreds of spells every day. You don't just remember them all."

"Where did you lose the book?" Alexandra asked.

"Man took it," Bollo said. "After we came through wardrobe."

"Yeah," said Naboo. "We were in Noel's house, and this guy – was sayin' his name was Mike – came in and –"

"Mike!" Alexandra gasped.

"Yeah, and we hid, and then he found us, so we ran, but we forgot the book and he took it – and then –" Naboo broke off, remembering what had happened to him when they'd gone back.

"And then?" Howard asked.

"Naboo," Alexandra said, leaning forwards, "Was he small?"

"Yeah."

"Oh God," Alexandra muttered.

"What?" Howard asked her.

"Well –" Alexandra looked at Naboo. "Well, I think it was Mike as in Noel's brother."

"And?"

"And – and he – he acts Naboo. On the show."

"Naboo's my brother?" Vince squealed.

"No!" Howard said. "Well, yes. Is he? I don't know! What?"

"This is so confusin'!" Vince whimpered, clutching his head.

Alexandra was watching Naboo. He was screwing his face up. She went to reach out for him, guessing this must be extremely weird for him – and then his eyes snapped open. "That's it!"

"What's it?" Alexandra asked, confused.

"That's how I got in his head! When we went back, I tried to listen in on him, and I went in his mind – I've never experienced anything like it – but if he acts me, there's a connection! I can be in his mind! That's what happened!" Naboo seemed excited, if anything. "So I can find the book, if I go back in his head!"

"Will he know you're in there?" Howard asked.

"He didn't seem to before, did he, Bollo?" Naboo asked. The gorilla shook his head. Then he raised his paw.

"Yes, Bollo?"

"Is it coincidence that the man Vince loves is called Noel too?"

"What?" Naboo yelped.

"What?" Alexandra asked, jumping.

"Love?" Howard cried. "Is that what you said, Vince?"

"Bollo, I was tellin' you about him privately!" Vince gasped.

"What are you talking about?" Naboo asked frantically.

"Vince told Bollo he met a man, man called Noel – Vince go all dizzy."

"Noel what? Noel what?" Naboo asked.

Vince bit his lip. "It is him, Bollo," he mumbled.

"What?" Naboo was shouting.

"Vince, what are you doing, telling Bollo all about this? And love?" Howard wailed despairingly. "You know you can't do this, Vince!"

"What's Vince done?" Naboo asked.

"Nothin'!" Vince screamed.

"Nothing except make out with Noel!" Howard said.

Naboo's mouth dropped open. "Oh my God, Vince," he said.

"What?"

Naboo was shaking his head.

"I didn't mean to!" Vince cried.

"Vince, you can't do this," Naboo said. "He's you. You can't get off with yourself, it's –"

"But –" Vince looked at Howard, who was just gazing at him helplessly. Bollo patted his leg but for once the friendly, furry lump wasn't much comfort. "Naboo," Vince said, "I know I can't do it – but I just can't – I can't 'elp it, Naboo –"

Naboo was shaking his head.

"I know, okay?" Vince cried, voice catching. "I know I've gotta stop. And we'll be leavin', and –"

"Vince," Naboo said, "I'm only tryin' to help. He's you. You can't be with yourself. And even if he wasn't you, you're right, we're leaving. You could never, ever make it work with someone from another world."

Vince was nodding. He clutched Bollo's paw tightly, and the ape patted him comfortingly.

Howard looked at Naboo. They were both thinking, this was the first time they'd seen Vince so upset over somebody. Vince didn't properly like people, as Naboo had been thinking only on the carpet earlier that evening. And now, the first time in his life he seemed to, it was himself – but himself as a different person.

Howard thought it was rather unfair, really, that the one time Vince did genuinely like someone there were so many barriers in the way. He reached over behind Bollo and patted Vince's hand. Vince, who was still holding Bollo's hand in one hand, gripped Howard's fingers with the other. Naboo watched. Alexandra watched. Naboo's last words echoed backwards and forwards between them all. No-one knew what to say, so they sat in silence, for a very long time.

"Why do we exist?" Vince asked finally.

"What?" Naboo blinked.

"Well, if we're just off a telly show – if we're telly characters, we shouldn't exist. Telly characters don't exist. But we do. Why?"

Naboo swallowed. "I don't know, Vince," he said. "I just don't know."

xxxxxxxx

_Next morning._

Howard awoke, blinking, groaning to himself, hauled from sleep by the sound of voices. Vince's voice – and – wait – his voice – Julian?

He jerked upright on Alexandra's sofa, gazing around the room.

Julian wasn't there.

It was just Vince.

Vince on the floor in front of the television. DVD cases were scattered around him, the ones Alexandra had got out last night.

Two days running when Vince had woken up earlier than him, Howard thought. This really was a week with a difference.

"Morning, little man," Howard said, clutching his forehead, which ached from waking up so fast and from the memories of the previous day. Had it all really happened in less than twenty-four hours?

Vince didn't respond.

"Vince?" Howard asked, leaning forwards to see what he was doing.

He was crouching, body tensed, in front of the television, clutching a remote control so hard his knuckles were turning white. He was gazing at the screen. There were people moving. Men throwing something around. Then Howard saw himself, and then Vince – and then his mouth dropped open, because he was watching something he remembered only too clearly, but from a third-person view-point: that time with the record...

They watched, silently, as Vince caught the record, as he held it, as Howard begged him not to break it – and then as he bit it practically in half.

Howard winced at the memory.

Vince's hand jerked as soon as that happened. He rewound the DVD, to the place where his punk band entered the shop. He watched again. Again, Howard winced as they saw Vince biting the record. Again, Vince pressed rewind. Again they watched.

"Vince...?" Howard started.

"I –" Vince spoke for the first time. And stopped.

There was a short silence.

"I – I don't know what to say –" Vince said finally, his voice tiny and breathy.

"About what?" Howard asked.

Vince's hand jerked again, and he paused the DVD on the image of himself biting the record. Howard wished he hadn't. But Vince was gazing intently at the screen. And then he spoke.

"I'm such an arsehole."

Now it was Howard's turn not to know what to say.

"Look at me!" Vince's voice rose and caught in his throat. "What am I – what am I _doin'_? I didn't even _think _at the time, I jus' did it! And it's not jus' that, either! It's in all of 'em!" He looked around rather desperately at the DVD boxes around him. "In all of them!"

"Vince," Howard started worriedly, "How long have you been watching these?"

"Why do I do it?" Vince's voice squeaked with emotion, and he suddenly turned to Howard, who gaped at him. Vince's face was screwed up, red with emotion, a vein standing out in his neck. Tears trembled in his eyes. His hair was wild, as though he'd been running his fingers through it.

"Vince," Howard said, quite alarmed at his usually so polished friend's appearance, "It really doesn't –"

"Don't say it doesn't matter!" Vince leapt up. "It does! I'm a little _bitch_! To everybody! And 'specially you, Howard! You're meant to be my _friend_, and God, you must love me, cos I wouldn't stick around with someone like me, I can tell you!" He seized the purple DVD case and clutched it wildly. "Look at me! All made up like a prostitute! What am I? I never used to be like this, Howard, not when we were at the zoo – but then we left and – all those Camden people – and there's no excuse, I know that – I'm not good with feelings, you know that – oh God, Howard –" He started hitting the front of the DVD box, slapping at the picture of him, or was it Noel?

"Vince!" Howard cried, jumping up and rushing to his friend. "Stop it!"

"No!" Vince ripped the cover sheet out of the DVD and tried to tear it in half, but his hands were trembling so much he couldn't. He clutched at the paper so huge creases appeared across both the faces.

"Vince!"

"I hate myself!" Vince tried to bite the picture in half. "I hate him! He made me do it! What am I? I hate us both!" He succeeded in biting a corner off the DVD cover and spat it on the floor. He tried to rip the picture again and managed it this time, tearing him and Howard – or Noel and Julian – in half. He let the Howard/Julian half fall to the floor and attacked the other one, crashing to his knees and thumping it against the floor.

"Vince, stop it!" Howard dropped down beside his friend and tried to grab him, but Vince pulled away.

"Get off! No! Hit me! Do whatever you want! You must hate me; I hate me!"

"Vince, I told you last night – I could never hate you –"

"_I hate myself!_" Vince smashed the picture against the floor again, punching it again. Howard could see scarlet between his knuckles. "Vince, you're hurting yourself! Stop it!" He seized Vince's hand. "Vince, that's blood!"

"I don't care!"

"I do!" Howard shouted.

Vince froze – and then collapsed, face nearly on the wood of the floor, sobbing hysterically.

The door suddenly banged, and Naboo and Bollo appeared with Alexandra. "What's going on?" Naboo asked anxiously.

"Precious Vince!" Bollo cried, seeing the crying man by the television.

"It's okay!" Howard held up a hand. "He just needs to calm down."

"Are you sure?" Naboo asked, holding back Bollo.

"Yes," Howard said. "Just leave us –"

"Do you need anything?" Alexandra asked.

"Maybe – maybe something to wash his hand up – he's cut himself –"

Alexandra nodded, and then ushered Bollo and Naboo out. They both seemed reluctant to leave. They kept looking back at Vince.

Howard waited. Vince was still convulsing on the floor, hands clutching at his hair, no longer caring about ruining the roots.

Alexandra returned with a basin of hot water, some plasters and a cloth. "Thanks," Howard muttered.

"If you need anything else, just call," Alexandra murmured back, and left the room.

Howard turned back to Vince as she closed the door. "Right, little man," he said, reaching for Vince's injured hand. "Let's get you cleaned up."

Vince whimpered, but he sat up a little and let Howard hold his arm properly.

Howard turned his fist over. "God, you've cut yourself to pieces, Vince!" He reached for the cloth, tense, worried Vince might explode again. He was still crying. But he seemed to have got over his hysterics. He sat with tears just running down his face as Howard gently started wiping the blood off his hand.

For a while, they were silent. Howard finished cleaning Vince up, and put some plasters on his fingers. There were more cuts on his knuckles but plasters wouldn't have stayed on there so Howard had to leave them. He patted Vince's hand. "There we go," he said. "All better."

"It's not," Vince said.

Howard sighed. "Vince –"

Vince looked at him with streaming eyes.

"I'm _so_ sorry, Howard," he said, his voice trembling.

"For –?"

"For _everything_. For being such a little bitch. I wouldn't blame you if you started hating me like Julian and Noel – maybe Noel's like that and maybe everyone will just hate both of us –"

"Vince, you can't think that everyone hates you," said Howard, almost laughing at this coming from his ridiculously popular friend.

Vince bit his lip. "I know – but people who _matter _will hate me."

Howard opened his mouth to reply – and then realised what Vince had said and couldn't.

Vince bowed his head, wiping at his face. Then he looked back at his friend. "Howard," he said, "I promise I'll never be a bitch to you again."

"Oh come on, little man," Howard said. "I'm not a saint to you all the time, am I? All friends argue –"

"Not all friends advertise each other as prostitutes," Vince whimpered. "Not all friends smash up each other's stuff. Not all friends reject each other for shiny clothes."

Howard nodded slowly.

He thought about the two of them for a moment.

Vince got him into all sorts of ridiculous and often dangerous situations. Vince broke his things (usually records). Vince was more interested in material possessions than he was in the man who was in Howard. Vince made it very clear that he only really put up with Howard because Howard was sometimes useful for back-up or when his other shallow mates had disappeared for a couple of days.

Howard forgave him every time, of course. He didn't mind that Vince often got him into potentially life-threatening adventures, he managed to get over his stuff being periodically destroyed, he swallowed down any bitterness that Vince cared more about pretty clothes than he did about him, and he never let himself care that Vince didn't really want him around, because as long as Vince did keep him around, Howard had his best friend.

Vince was watching him.

Maybe, Howard thought, maybe he didn't just keep him around as a back-up or for someone to fall back on.

"Look, little man," he said, "Maybe we haven't been getting on as well recently, but remember the zoo? Remember how we were then? We haven't always been like this."

"We're gettin' like them," Vince said fearfully. "God, I swear, I'm gonna smack 'em in their heads – they _wrote_ all that, Howard."

"They don't like each other; can you blame them for writing it?"

"Yes! They don't have to make other people hate each other just cos they do!"

"Well, technically they're not, Vince. Not other people."

Vince groaned. "I hate this," he said. "I hate them! Except I don't. They're nice. I don't understand. And – and Howard, Noel –" His face crumpled.

"I know," Howard said, reaching out to stroke his friend's back. "It'll take time –" He was cut off because Vince suddenly put his arms round him.

"I love you, Howard," he said.

Howard hesitated for a moment.

"Not like that!" Vince pulled back suddenly.

"I was going to say!" Howard dared a joke: "I was going to say, then we'll have to get you home; this world's making you gay!"

There was a pause – and then Vince gave a rather weak giggle. But then he looked serious again. "But I do love you, Howard, like as in a friend – my best friend. You are my best friend. You're more than that; you're all I've got. You're like my family."

"Naboo and Bollo?"

"Nah, they're just like annoying but strangely likeable cousins. You're like my brother and my dad at the same time. I don't 'ave anyone else."

Howard stroked his friend's back. "Well, don't worry. Because like I said last night, it's you and me. We won't let ourselves get like them."

"Two halves of a complete person?"

"Two halves, little man. Two halves."

xxxxxxxx

_Later._

It took a while to leave Alexandra's flat. Once Vince was completely calmed down, they all showered and had breakfast. By the time they got going it was about eleven thirty – and then it took ages to fly back to the hotel to find Noel and Julian. Partly because Howard and Vince couldn't completely remember where it was. Partly because the carpet had to take obscure routes so it wouldn't get spotted.

But eventually they arrived – at least an hour after setting off – and Naboo dropped Vince and Howard on the doorstep. They got a key from reception and went up to let the others in through the window of the room (they had decided this was the best way of smuggling a gorilla into the building).

Howard glanced at Vince as they climbed the stairs. His electro friend's face was set, like he was trying to hold himself together. Howard knew he was trying to control himself in the face of the fact that he would shortly be seeing Noel again.

"Hey," Howard said.

"Hmm?" Vince looked up.

"It's okay."

Vince smiled – but he still seemed tense. They reached the door, and Howard felt a sudden rush of nerves himself as he unlocked the door.

"Hello?" he called, cautiously, as they went in.

No reply.

The carpet was visible, hovering outside the window.

Vince hurried to let Naboo, Alexandra and Bollo in. "Well?" Bollo grunted.

Howard reappeared from the bedroom. He was looking worried. "They're not here."

"Maybe they're in our room," Vince suggested.

So Howard went downstairs for the other key. But he returned shaking his head. Noel and Julian weren't there either.

Vince kicked the wall. "Where the hell are they?"

"Well," said Naboo, sitting down on the sofa, "Let's wait. They should be back soon." And he pulled something out from under his robes. He muttered a few words and it began to grow. It enlarged, and enlarged, and sprouted a pipe, until they saw it was a hookah.

"You just grew that!" Vince exclaimed.

"Yeah. Shrinking hookah. For the shaman who wants to conceal his drug habits." Naboo was preparing the hookah for a smoke. "Anyone want help relaxing?"

Even Howard agreed.

xxxxxxxx

_Hours later._

The sky was beginning to darken outside. The lights were coming on in the city. The air in the hotel room was thick with smoke and people's breath. And there was still no sign of Noel and Julian.

Periodically, someone would go to the other room to check. First Naboo. Then Bollo. Then Alexandra. Then Howard again. Now Vince was there. But they wouldn't be back: everyone had pretty much accepted that.

Naboo was smoking yet more hookah, eyes rolling slightly. Alexandra was gazing out of the window, biting the back of her hand. Bollo was pacing. Howard would normally have been doing the same, but he was slumped half on and half off the sofa. He wasn't used to drugs.

There was a thump.

The door banged.

Vince reappeared. And he seemed excited. He was clutching something.

"What?" Howard groaned dopily.

"Are they there?" Naboo asked, snapping out of his stoned state almost instantly.

"No, but I know where they are!" Vince waved whatever he was holding in the air. It looked like a shiny piece of paper.

"What?" Alexandra asked.

"You couldn't have said so earlier?" Naboo glared.

"No, I mean, I know where we can find 'em now!" Vince flapped the paper again. "Well, Noel, I mean. He told me last night, 'e's doing a show tonight – and I just found the flyer on the bedroom floor! That's where 'e'll be!"

Naboo rushed over and seized the flyer. "Noel Fielding, and some other random people –"

"Other comedians, I guess," Alexandra said.

"Where?" Bollo asked.

"The Royal Albert Hall," Naboo said.

"I know where that is!" Alexandra said. "I can direct the carpet!"

"Right, let's go!" said Naboo. "It starts at seven thirty so we should have time to find him before!"

"Wait," said Howard weakly.

"What?" Vince, Alexandra and Naboo all stopped.

Howard was trying to get up, rather shakily from smoking the hookah. "What about Bollo?"

"What about Bollo?" the gorilla asked menacingly.

"Well, how are we going to get an ape into the show?"

Bollo growled.

"Sorry, Bollo, but you are an ape," Howard said.

"Oh yeah."

Naboo was looking worried. "I didn't think of that," he said.

There was a pause.

"He could go in disguise!" Vince said suddenly.

"Vince," Howard said, "I swear to God, if you try to dress Bollo in drag –"

xxxxxxxx

But when it came down to it, Vince didn't need to dress Bollo in drag. They found one of Julian's coats and Noel's big hat and put those on him, and he looked remarkably human – albeit a rather squat and hairy human.

"Just don't look at anyone," Howard told him as they flew over. "Keep your head down."

"Wouldn't want to look at anyone," Bollo grunted. "Wouldn't want to be seen in this stupid hat."

Naboo was nodding. He understood how Bollo felt. The others had suddenly worried about his robes, and had forced him into jeans (rolled up, of course) and a jacket. He wasn't even wearing his turban. With his long hair and the too-big jeans, he now looked like some sort of miniscule metalhead. Naboo had never felt more ridiculous, or less magical, in his life. And this was the worst time for feeling ridiculous, he thought, in front of Alexandra.

"It's a cool hat!" Vince was saying to Bollo indignantly.

"Look," Alexandra said hastily, trying to stop an argument, "There it is!"

The huge building was ablaze with light. Crowds of people were flocking up.

"Hmm, we're a bit late," Naboo muttered, as he landed the carpet in a side street nearby. "We'll have to hurry."

People, mostly in tight jeans (which made Naboo feel worse about the ones he was wearing, which were Noel's and supposed to be tight as well but obviously weren't on the tiny shaman) were thronging about, chatting and laughing excitedly. "Looks like this is pretty big," Howard said.

"Yeah, it is," Alexandra said. "I wanted tickets but I couldn't get them. It sold out quite fast."

There were a few squeals, and they looked up to see some girls pointing at Howard excitedly.

Howard blinked.

"First time for everything," Bollo muttered behind him.

"Very funny," Howard growled at him.

"They think you're Julian," Alexandra hissed to him.

"Yeah, you'll have to get us in backstage, Howard," said Naboo, as they approached the door. He glanced at Vince. "Vince, keep your head down. You look like Noel and he's already in there."

Vince nodded.

The odd group approached the bouncer by the door.

"Um..." Howard began awkwardly – but the man instantly looked past him, at Vince. "Noel! There you are! Get inside; you're late!"

"What?" Vince squeaked – but the bouncer pushed them inside.

"He's not here?" Howard asked.

"Now what?" Alexandra asked, looking around.

"Maybe we can find someone who works with them," Naboo said.

Suddenly, a voice rang out: "Noel! There y'are, mate! We were thinkin' you weren't comin'!"

Everyone jumped, and looked up to see a bearded man in tight jeans and a lot of necklaces striding towards them, grinning rather manically.

"Wow, they have good hairspray here!" Vince said, looking at the man's impressively large hair and remembering the big-haired girl from the pub.

"Oh my God," Alexandra muttered.

"What?" Naboo asked.

Alexandra was staring at the man. "I don't believe it! It's Russell Brand!"

* * *

**Teehee.**

**Thank you for reading something so LONG.**

**violence x**


	13. Things That Don't Matter

**Woo! Look at me go with my fast update!! I am proud of myself.**

**Righty, this chapter is a bit shorter, but you're probably glad cos you're probably all exhausted after last time! I wasn't actually going to put this stuff in, but several people mentioned they were missing Noel and Julian's angst-ing, so I thought, why not do a bit more? So you get plenty of angst (and something that might just start to resemble fluff) in this chapter.**

**Disclaimers: The Mighty Boosh (which doesn't actually feature much in this part) is owned by the beautiful couple, Noel Fielding and Julian Barratt, who I assume also own themselves (and if they don't, I am not their owner).  
The song playing in Topshop is "Foundations" by Kate Nash.  
Some of this was inspired by an interview with Noel and Julian that stars of andromeda sent me, like the bit about washing clothes and the bit about Noel being ill. I have no idea what was wrong with him so I just made it up. **

**Right, enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen**

**_"You don't really remember stuff about things that don't matter to you, do you?"_**

"Oh, Jesus Christ."

Total silence.

Howard and Vince were gone, run off into the outside world, to do God-only-knew-what – clearly panicking, which would make things much worse...

Anything could happen now. And Julian knew it was kind of his fault.

So he turned on the only other person there.

"And what the hell were you doing, rolling all over the sofa with –?"

He broke off.

Noel was staring at the door where Howard and Vince had run off. But he wasn't staring like he was worried about what would happen, or angry that Julian had let Howard see the DVD. He was... he looked...

Lost.

Julian hesitated.

"Noel?"

Nothing.

"Noel, are you all right?" God, this was awkward. It had been months – how many months? – since Julian had cared whether Noel was 'all right'.

Or at least, it had been months since he'd let Noel see that he cared.

Except perhaps he'd blown that with the beating-up-the-chav incident the other day.

Noel suddenly turned to him. His blue eyes were very big. For a few seconds, Julian had a glimpse of what Noel was thinking (something that was rare with Noel). And it wasn't something he wanted to think about. In fact it wasn't even something he could imagine.

Noel was thinking something along the lines of: Vince is gone. He's gone and now... now what do I do?

But it was only a glimpse. Because then Noel's face hardened. The way it always did.

"What the fuck did ya think you were doin'?"

"What?"

"Takin' Howard into the HMV!"

"Well, forgive me for being alive –"

"Something I 'ave to do every single fuckin' day!"

That smacked hard.

"You fuckin' idiot!" Noel was yelling. "You fuckin' idiot, those DVDs are _always_ on display right at the front of them shops –"

"Well, I forgot!"

"You _forgot?_"

"It's not really something I think about any more, is it?"

"And what the 'ell is that s'posed to mean?"

"Well, you know. You don't really remember stuff about things that don't matter to you, do you?"

That felt good. Horribly, cruelly, sickeningly good.

Noel stopped.

The room seemed empty with their shouting, without Howard's shouting, without Vince's shouting. But then again, rooms they were in now often seemed empty without them shouting.

For a few seconds they stared at each other.

What are we doing?

How the hell did we get here?

How did we get from being those two guys at the comedy clubs, at the festivals, on the radio, on the TV, always together, always...? How did we get from that to this?

Then Noel turned away, clutching his forehead, the way he so often did when he was hung over. It was as though getting over something as poignant as the past ten years would leave a thumping head and sickness in much the same way that too many vodkas would.

Too much, too much. Were they simply too much? Too strong? Did they need each other so much that they burnt each other out?

Because need each other they did.

Between Noel's back and Julian's heavy breathing, things seemed to echo, shoot backwards and forwards.

_Noel staggering onto Julian's doorstep at four o'clock in the morning._

_Julian sleeping on Noel's sofa._

_Gary Numan. Playing Gary Numan, singing along to Gary Numan._

_The clubs, and the bars, and the alcohol._

_That first show, when they'd both sat in silence the hour before. Julian had thought at the time that silent Noel was very weird._

_After the show, when they impulsively hugged each other leaving the club. "It was okay, wasn't it?" "Okay? It was great, you big idiot!"_

_That year Noel was ill, when Julian had sat with him in the hospitals, helped him out of the clubs when it all got too much. Julian would hold back his hair when he vomited, stroking his back on the street corners in broad daylight when he would suddenly stagger and retch. He'd glare at the people who would sniff and clearly think, "Drunk at ten in the morning!" Julian hadn't ever minded doing it, as long as Noel got better. That had been a long year, the year Noel was ill. _

_The television show... magazine interviews, television interviews... girls..._

_Julian smashing his fist into that chav's face, two days ago. Practically tearing the guy's face off to stop him hurting Noel..._

Julian wondered suddenly whether Noel had ever thought of him as anything more than a substitute father. A substitute father who would at some stage need to be rebelled against, the way everyone needed to rebel against their parents as they grew up. Was that what was happening? Noel... growing up?

"Oi – bastard."

Maybe Noel wasn't growing up.

"What?" Julian groaned.

"What are we gonna do now?"

"What do you mean, 'what are we gonna do now?'"

"You know what I mean. What are we gonna do about Howard and –" Noel paused for a second and swallowed – "Howard and Vince?"

"Noel, I don't know –"

"Well, you'd bet'er 'know' soon, hadn't you?"

"Why do you always ask me everything?" Julian shouted. "Christ, Noel, what are you, five? Can't you do anything for yourself?"

"What –?"

"Why do I always have to look after you?" All those memories came back, and not in a nostalgic way this time. "Is that why you keep me around?"

"I'm not keepin' you around!"

"But you did! For ten years! What, so I could make you tea and wash your clothes –"

"_I_ washed _your_ clothes!"

"Yes, I remember, white shirts in with some of your stupid red jeans or whatever it was –"

"At least I did it! You never washed anythin', certainly not my stuff!"

"I did everything else! Fed you, gave you somewhere to sleep, looked after you when you got ill –"

"Well, if you 'ated it so much, why did you do it – for _ten years_?"

"I –"

"I told ya, see? You can't get _anywhere_ without _me_! You're defined by _me_! People are only interested in you cos of _me_, you –" Julian's arm flew out, smashing into the side of Noel's head; Noel yelped and staggered, almost going straight over onto the floor, managing to clutch the wall but falling forwards a moment later, down onto his knees, clutching his face where Julian had hit him...

"Oh my God!" Julian gasped, dropping down onto his knees next to Noel.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ!" Noel muttered fiercely, gripping his head.

"Shut up! Let me – let me look –" Julian reached for Noel's shoulder. Noel growled at him, but didn't actually resist when Julian pulled him up a bit and turned his head to see the damage. The whole side of Noel's face was stung red where Julian's hand had connected with the skin.

Julian gasped, horrified. "Oh my God, Noel... I'm so sorry..."

"No, you're fuckin' not!" Noel hissed. "And stop touchin' my face, it _hurts_!"

Julian snatched his hand away. "Sorry, sorry."

"Am I bleedin'?"

"No... it's not a cut..."

"Is it gonna bruise?" Noel asked anxiously. "Is it all gonna swell up?"

"Oh God, I don't know... hold on." Julian rushed to the bathroom, ran the cold tap and stuck on of the towels under it. He brought it back to where Noel was still sitting on the floor. "What's that?" Noel asked.

"Cold water – to stop it swelling – come here –" He held the towel up to Noel's face. Noel breathed in sharply as the material touched, but then seemed to get used to the idea and relaxed a little. Julian held the towel more firmly against his skin. "Okay?"

"Yeah... I think you mighta knocked some of me teeth out..."

"Oh God, I haven't, have I?"

Noel paused, feeling round his mouth with his tongue. "Hmm... nah, maybe they're okay..."

"Noel, I –"

"What? Here, let me take that towel, as you 'ate doin' stuff for me..." Noel pushed Julian's hand away and held the towel against his face himself. Julian felt strangely rejected by that. And he'd hurt Noel – he should sort it out –

"I didn't mean to do that," he said.

Noel paused, holding the wet towel against his head. Then, he said, "I know."

"I really didn't; I don't want to hurt you –"

Noel muttered something.

"What?"

"Nothin'. And I – I mean, I was sayin' all that stuff... I didn't..." He broke off. He seemed to be struggling to find what he wanted to say. "I didn't really..." He stopped and sighed. He didn't try again.

They sat on the floor in silence for a while.

"Your face feeling better?"

"Yeah..."

"You know, you're right; we do need to do something about Howard and Vince..."

"Yeah."

"We need to go and find them, before they cause all sorts of confusion..."

"What are we gonna tell 'em? They must be fuckin' freaked out, and I don't really blame 'em – I wouldn't wanna find out my whole life was a telly show."

Julian nodded. But to be honest, he had no idea what they were going to tell Howard and Vince. But he had never liked to let Noel see he didn't know quite what to do, because Noel needed him to be the sensible one. It had always felt like he was letting the younger man down if he wasn't able to solve whatever problem they might be presented with. True, the problems in the past hadn't been anything like on this scale – they hadn't involved clones of themselves lost in London – but even so.

"Let's just find them first, shall we?" he said.

Noel nodded.

"Then we can think about what to say."

Noel nodded again.

There was a short pause. Then Julian said, "Noel..."

"Don't."

"What?"

"I know what you're gonna say. Don't."

"What am I going to say?"

"You're gonna say, 'what the 'ell were you doin', Noel, making out with yourself?' That's what you're gonna say." Noel took a deep and rather shuddering breath. His fingers tightened on the towel.

Julian said nothing. He'd actually been going to ask if he could look at Noel's face again and see if it was bruising, but now he didn't really know how to tell Noel that.

"I didn't mean to do it," Noel said suddenly. "It was just a kinda – spur of the moment – kinda thing."

"What, with yourself?" Julian asked.

"I know, alright?" Noel snapped. Then he sighed. "No, I do know... and I know it was kinda me..."

"Kind of you? It _was_ you."

"But it wasn't, Ju."

Ju.

"'E's different; 'e's..." Noel broke off and ran his free hand over his hair, which was still ruffled from his encounter on the sofa. "I dunno but... it doesn't feel like me. Does that make any sense?"

Silence.

"Julian? Are you actually gonna talk to me?"

"Oh... sorry. Yeah. I kind of..." Julian said, still distracted – as he always was – by the old nickname. He cleared his throat and pulled himself together. "I kind of... but Noel... I mean, he's a man... you're not..."

"I've been known to experiment," Noel said.

"But with _yourself_?"

To his surprise, Noel suddenly laughed.

"What?"

"We've all been known to experiment with ourselves, Julian."

Julian groaned – but he couldn't help smiling. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know." Noel shook his head. "Anyway, s'not like I'll be doin' anything else with 'im, is it?" He hesitated for a moment, as though he was trying to get himself used to the idea. "We'll find 'em, and send 'em home – somehow – and then get those contracts signed – and they can live their lives without all those weird adventures we used to send 'em one." Noel smiled to himself briefly.

Julian nodded, not allowing himself to wonder what the smile might have meant. "Okay. Let's go."

Noel took the towel away from his head. "D'you think it's all right?" he asked, turning his head to let Julian see.

Julian didn't want to see. In spite of the cold water, Noel's face was starting to bruise.

He'd done that.

Julian could have slammed his head against the wall – or cut off the arm that had hurt Noel's face.

He didn't want to tell Noel about the bruising, because otherwise he might refuse to go out.

"It looks fine."

xxxxxxx

Howard and Vince were nowhere to be found.

Noel and Julian searched the streets late into the night. They walked round the blocks near the hotel. Then they went and got Julian's car and drove, down street after street after street, streets that all looked the same in the orange lights, and streets that never revealed the two people they were looking for.

They went back to Noel's house, in case Howard and Vince had gone there. But it was deserted – in spite of the fact that they found Noel had forgotten to lock his front door when they left. "I 'ad other things on me mind, didn't I?" Noel snapped at Julian, who was shaking his head. Then he yelped because he'd caught sight of his face in the mirror in his hallway and had seen that one side of it was bruised and rather swollen.

Julian thought that he was lucky not to get his own face smashed in because of that.

By that time, it was about two in the morning and they were both exhausted. They stayed at Noel's house – Julian on the sofa – and the next morning they went out again, everywhere they could think of to go. They separated to cover more ground. Julian wandered all round by Westminster – they knew Vince had been there because he'd mentioned "a big Ferris wheel" he'd had a ride on – and along Oxford Street, into Topshop, where they were now playing "_My fingertips are 'oldin' onto the cracks in our foundations..._" Noel prowled Camden, going everywhere he knew (which was a lot of places), dodging gasping girls in tight jeans. He really wasn't in the mood...

A few times people cornered him in shops, and he had to talk to them. They wanted photos with him. They wanted him to sign things. Noel normally loved talking to fans – although recently it had been a bit awkward because they'd go on and on about the TV show while Noel wondered what they'd do when they heard it was cancelled – but today he was distracted, trying to keep his eyes open for his own face or Julian's, trying not to remember the feeling of last night and the mouth against his – and he felt less confident than usual anyway, with the bruises down his face – and all in all, girls squealing over him was not what he wanted. As they fluttered their eyelashes and talked in breathy voices about "my favourite programme" and "changed my life" and "I love your hair", he just wanted to shake them...

But there seemed to be even more of them than usual today. Through the streets of Camden Lock Market he was pursued not only by the smell of marijuana and cheap Chinese food, but also by whispers: "Noel Fielding!" "Are you sure?" "Oh my God, look!" "It's Noel Fielding!" "It's Noel Fielding!" "It's Noel Fielding!" "Is Julian there?" "No but who cares, he's boring..."

Noel spun round at that. It was a reflex. He always did it.

"'Ey, you, shut up," he snapped at the girl in her tuxedo t-shirt and tight red jeans.

"What?" she squeaked, while her friend – presumably the one who'd asked about Julian – backed away nervously.

"You shut up about Julian; you don't know him and –" Noel suddenly broke off.

Oh God, he'd done it without even thinking, sticking up for his friend. Noel had always hated it when people laughed at Julian (in the rather sneering way they sometimes did, as opposed to laughed at him during shows, when they were _supposed_ to laugh). People sometimes seemed to think Julian wasn't important and Noel would want to hit them. If it wasn't for Julian, there wouldn't be the show... it was as much his as it was Noel's, sometimes more, because Julian was so organised that Noel had often thought he wouldn't have been able to manage doing anything like this without him. Noel hated it when people looked straight through Julian; looked at Julian as a kind of dull background to show up Noel's colours... when they thought...

_You're just sayin' that cause you know you'd never have got anywhere if you hadn't been with me."_

_I told ya, see? You can't get _anywhere_ without _me_! You're defined by _me_! People are only interested in you cos of _me

When they thought things like that.

Noel's legs suddenly felt weak.

The girls were staring at him, clearly thinking he was mad, shouting at them and then suddenly freezing and staring off into the middle distance like a lunatic.

Noel forced his way between them and ran, down the passageway past all the stores, nearly knocking over a man with a large Chinese take-away, past open-mouthed teenagers, round the corner, past the huge shop that sold robot head-pieces and played thunderous techno, on past all the hippy shops with carved wooden people and embroidered cushions, up the ramp until he was on the roof and could see out over the streets. He had been making for the toilets up there but by now the stitch in his side was over-powering, and there was no-one around, so instead he just collapsed against the railings round the edge of the rooftop to stop people falling over the side, clutching his stomach with one hand and his mouth with the other.

Oh, fuck. Oh, Jesus Christ... fuck...

This couldn't have happened at a worse time – forcing him to spend all this time with Julian – Julian fucking Barratt – he didn't need this, he didn't need to think about the past ten years, especially when he...

Fuck.

And it had all gone so wrong. So many things to make him wonder if maybe, just maybe, Julian didn't want to stop either... Julian had thumped that chav to stop him hurting Noel. And he remembered how devastated Julian had looked last night, when he'd seen Noel's face after he'd hit him... so many things to give him false hope.

And Noel had still felt that familiar surge of anger at someone jeering at his friend.

And it was becoming harder to fool himself that he hated Julian.

Fuck.

_"You don't really remember stuff about things that don't matter to you, do you?"_

But Noel remembered. Noel remembered every single detail.

What am I gonna do now?

Nothing, he told himself angrily. You're not going to do anything. You don't need him. You don't need him. You just did that because you're used to it; it doesn't mean anything. You can do fine – better – without all that old shit. You _don't need him_.

He pressed his hands fiercely into his eyes, wiping away the dampness, and then stood up. The stitch had gone a bit now. Noel brushed his hair back off his face, pulled his jacket straight, and turned away from the edge of the rooftop.

xxxxxxx

They reconvened later that evening.

"Anything?" Noel asked, slightly surprised that a tiny part of him, even after he'd convinced himself defending Julian like that it was all just habit, still wanted to hug the other man and tell him...

Tell him what?

Even if Noel had wanted to carry on, and even if he could have allowed himself to think Julian did too – _tell him what? _There was so, so much to tell, Noel didn't think he'd ever know when to start. And Julian wouldn't really want to hear.

They'd come too far to go back.

Even if he had wanted to.

He didn't want to.

He thought he didn't want to.

He did want to.

He didn't know.

Julian was looking exactly like Noel felt: very, very tired. "No..." he said. "God, they could be anywhere."

Noel sighed. "Maybe... maybe they're back at the hotel..."

"I doubt it," Julian said. "They seemed pretty keen to get away from us, didn't they?"

"Yeah... just go on lookin' then? What time is it, anyway?"

Julian checked his watch. "Eight fifteen."

"God, we've been out all day and – oh fuck!" Noel's eyes suddenly widened.

"What?"

"That show! That show I was meant to be doin', with Russell and everyone – oh fuck, I forgot! All this happened and I just forgot – I'm meant to be there – it was meant to have started...!"

"We'll go now," Julian said instantly, taking charge, as he always had.

"And tell them what? That I was looking for Howard and Vince? They'll put me in the loony bin, and you too!"

"No, we'll tell them... I don't know... we'll think of something. Come on!"

"How am I gonna get there?" Noel wailed. "It's ages away!"

"We've got my car. I'll drive you. Now move!" Julian seized Noel's arm and hauled him off to where he'd left the vehicle.

* * *

**Dun dun DUH!! hehe.**

**I am hoping the next bit will be up soon. However, I am struggling cos Russell Brand, damn him, is extremely hard to write! I am working on it though and am hoping to have the next bit ready shortly, cos I am really really addicted to writing this at the moment! We're getting towards the climax... anyway, hope this angst has tided you over until Russell and co. come back.**

**Thanks for reading and all your kind reviews.**

**violence x**


	14. Make Them Dance

**Right, we are back! With another very long chapter, I'm afraid. It of course contains the long-awaited Russell Brand bit, which I'm not actually sure I've done very well (Russell Brand is a very difficult character to capture, especially for someone who doesn't really watch his shows) so sorry about that!! I also hope the rest of it isn't boring but it is kind of essential.**

**Disclaimers:  
The Mighty Boosh and all its characters belong to Noel Fielding and Julian Barratt. Julian belongs to himself. Noel belongs to Julian. hehe. Just kidding.  
Russell Brand belongs to himself.  
Alexandra, however, is mine.**

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen**

**_"Make them dance!"_**

"What?" Naboo asked.

"It's Russell Brand!"

"Who?"

"What's that?" Howard leant over.

"He's a comedian... he's performing here too..." Alexandra was saying.

"Who is he?" Vince asked.

"Russell Brand, he's another comedian..."

"He needs a shave," Vince muttered, looking critically back at the approaching man. "Maybe I could give 'im one like I did you, Howard."

Howard patted his face rather nervously. He still hadn't got used not being moustache-less.

"Does he know Noel?" Naboo asked.

Alexandra nodded. "Yeah, they've done stuff together before..."

"Oh God," Naboo said, "He'll try to get Vince on the stage!"

"Stage?" Vince asked.

"Vince!" Howard hissed. "This wouldn't be a good stage; this would be –"

"I don't wanna go on stage and do comedy like Noel!" Vince squeaked, much to everyone's surprise; they had all assumed, like Howard, that Vince would jump at the chance. "I'm not like Noel! And Noel's funny by making me be horrible to people –" He glanced at Howard, who blinked, slightly surprised again at Vince's genuine upset over his behaviour, but still very touched.

"Bollo fight him off," grunted Bollo, flexing his gorilla arms.

"No fighting, Bollo!" Naboo said. "We'll just go – quickly!" He grabbed Vince's arm and tried to pull him away, but at that moment, another hand shot out, and seized the back of Vince's shirt. Vince squeaked.

"You're late!" announced the bearded, big-haired man – Russell Brand – jerking Vince round to face him. "This is well out of order, Noel." He was grinning as he spoke, so he obviously didn't mind too much – but this didn't really make Vince, or any of the others, feel much better.

"What? Cat got your tongue? No 'ello for your dear old friend Russell?" asked Russell Brand.

"Um –" Vince started, but at that moment, Russell Brand seemed to notice that he and Vince weren't the only people there.

"Keep that for later; we're not alone!" he said, and spun round to face Howard. "Julian!" He grabbed Howard's hand, very hard. "Me dear fellow! And Mike, and – 'ello," he said suddenly, spotting Alexandra, grin widening even more.

"Hello," said Alexandra, frowning as his eye swept over her. Naboo bristled visibly.

Russell Brand's smile had reached somewhat alarming proportions. "And who is this young lady gracin' us with 'er esteemed presence?" he asked. He took Alexandra's hand and looked at her darkly. "I know a thing or two about women, me."

"I know tae kwon do," Alexandra said, smiling sweetly.

Russell Brand stepped backwards sharply, and then seemed to realise that he'd just been caught off guard and glared. Naboo grinned. He'd been preparing to curse this rude man, but it seemed he wouldn't need to. Alexandra was clearly perfectly capable of looking after herself.

"Russell!" a voice bellowed behind them – which was good, because Russell Brand still wasn't looking too happy. "Is that Noel over there?"

They all turned to see a rather large, harrowed-looking man, his shirt straining uncomfortably, clutching a clipboard.

"Most certainly is, good sir!" cried Russell Brand, forgetting Alexandra.

"Shut up, Russell," sighed the man, who had evidently heard this sort of flamboyant language a few times too many, "And get ready, you're on in five." And he hurried away.

Vince, Howard, Naboo, Alexandra and Bollo exchanged anxious glances.

"Look," Howard said, as Russell Brand turned back, smile back on his face, "This has been, um, lovely, but we really ought to be going..."

"Goin'? I thought he were comin' to extend the hand of friendship and support," Russell Brand said to Vince.

"What –?" Howard started to ask, but Russell Brand held up a hand.

"Never mind!" he said dramatically. "We, poor cockneys that we are, 'ave learnt to survive without the aid of men-folk such as yourself, Julian." He turned to Vince. "C'mon, me dear young thing. Our public awaits." And he seized Vince's arm and hauled him away. Vince managed one look back – his face wearing a terrified expression that clearly said, "Help me!" – and then Russell Brand dragged him through a door and they were gone.

"Shit!" Howard gasped. "Shit, shit, shit!"

"Man take precious Vince!" Bollo growled, equally alarmed. "Dangerous. Not like his eyes. Bollo think he rapist."

"He's not a rapist, Bollo; he's a comedian," Naboo said – but he looked quite scared himself.

"We've gotta go after them!" Alexandra said. "If Vince gets on that stage everyone will think he's lost it completely – they'll think he's on drugs! It'll be all over the tabloids – Noel Fielding stoned on stage!" She stared round at them. "Come on!"

"Right!" said Howard, and he and Alexandra rushed off towards the door through which Vince and Russell Brand had disappeared. Bollo careered after them, Naboo behind him. They charged for the door, Alexandra seizing the handle – "Where do you think you're going?" shouted a female security guard, grabbing her.

"We –" Howard began, leaping forwards – but the guard saw him and smiled.

"Oh, sorry!" she said. "I didn't realise it was you! Want to watch from backstage?"

"Oh. Yes," Howard said, remembering just in time that everyone thought he was Julian. "And – can you let go of my friend?"

"Sorry!" The woman released Alexandra's arm and opened the door for them. "Off you go then, enjoy."

"Thanks," said Howard, as Alexandra, Naboo and Bollo hurried through.

"Love the new look, by the way," the woman grinned at him, and hurried off.

Howard guessed she was referring to his lack of facial hair.

He didn't think he'd ever get used to that.

But there was no time to think about it now. He hastily followed the others.

They were at the side of the stage. Vince and Russell Brand were nowhere to be seen. Alexandra, Naboo and Bollo were looking at him helplessly.

"Howard –" Alexandra started.

A sudden roar from some unseen crowd cut through her words.

"Oh God!" Howard gasped. He rushed to the edge of the stage, where he could see the lights blazing – and saw two dark figures silhouetted against the white-yellow glare, one with very large hair leading the other forwards. Screams of excitement from the invisible audience filled the air.

"Oh no," Howard whimpered. "What do we do? What do we _do?_"

"Howard, shh – someone'll hear you," Naboo said, coming up to join him.

"But Vince –"

"We can't get 'im off now, Howard," Naboo said. "We'll just 'ave to wait – hope –"

"Pray," Bollo muttered behind them.

xxxxxxx

Vince staggered as he was dragged through the door, away from Howard, away from Naboo, away from Bollo, away from Alexandra. He had no idea what was going to happen, he just knew it would involve a stage and something that Noel was good at and he wasn't.

"Look," he started, "I don't – I don't feel too well –"

Russell Brand didn't seem to hear. Or, if he did hear, he didn't care. He just thrust a microphone at Vince and yanked his arm again. Vince realised, to his horror, that they were nearing the edge of what seemed to be the stage.

He had a fleeting thought of reaching into his shirt for his eyeliner pencil and maybe jabbing Russell Brand in the eye with it and then running, but before he could even begin to find it, he was pulled forwards again – and suddenly he was dazzled by brilliant lights. Shrieks filled his head and he wasn't sure who was shrieking. All he knew was he was being taken forwards... forwards...

They were on the stage.

The screaming went on for a few seconds, fever pitched, almost frightening in its intensity. Vince's heart was thumping him in the ribs. Where was Howard? Howard always protected him... but weirdly, against the lights, when he closed his eyes to stop himself being totally blinded and tried to lose himself in the red and purple dots imprinted on his eyelids, there was only one person in his head.

Noel.

The screaming died down. The audience seemed to settle themselves.

Vince dared open his eyes.

As he looked up, he could just make out, beyond the stage lights, rows and rows and rows of people, dark heads waiting, straining, begging him to make their evening...

But Vince wasn't Noel. He couldn't.

He couldn't move. Their gazes paralysed him. He couldn't even turn his head and see if Russell Brand was still there. He might have run away for all Vince knew.

The silence was roaring in his head.

He had to say something, just something... anything...

"Alright?" he said, nervously.

Screams answered his simple greeting: people were almost in hysterics, cheering, stamping their feet, waving their arms – he thought he heard a few "I love you!"s somewhere in the cacophony.

"Um... I'm Vince – I mean, I'm Noel..."

Oh God.

There was a slight pause.

"Have you been pickin' mushrooms again?" asked a voice next to him. Russell Brand.

The audience laughed. Vince allowed himself to breathe.

xxxxxxx

"Oh God, this is so tense..." Naboo muttered, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.

"Yeah, but he's doing okay so far," Alexandra said, peering round the edge of the stage.

For almost half an hour they had watched, waited – prayed, as Bollo had suggested – and so far, things seemed to be working out. Vince wasn't entirely sure what he was doing, but they had the advantage that almost the entire audience seemed to adore Noel, so whatever Vince said they simply took as a brilliant joke.

Howard couldn't watch. He was pacing up and down, muttering to himself.

Bollo was watching Howard. He had wanted to watch Vince, but Naboo had insisted that someone make sure Howard didn't start giving himself Chinese burns. "Vince would want it," he'd said, and so Bollo had agreed – just, he said, because Vince would want him to.

"If he can just keep going a bit longer..." Alexandra muttered.

But suddenly, on the stage, there was a disturbance.

"Oh fuck!" Alexandra gasped.

"What?" Naboo rushed over. "What is it?"

Russell Brand seemed to have decided it was time to have what a lot of the audience had been hoping to see: a kiss.

"Oi!" Vince squeaked, pulling away, as the other man grabbed him.

"Oh God!" Naboo hissed.

"What?" Howard rushed to see what was happening. He staggered backwards when he saw the scene on the stage: Russell Brand hauling Vince against him, Vince struggling away.

The audience, fortunately, seemed to think this resistance by 'Noel' was part of the show: they laughed and whooped. Russell Brand apparently thought it was part of the show, too; he pulled a face at the audience, said gloatingly, "'E knows 'e wants it, really; 'e's just blown away with desire for my stunning physique and manly charms and it makes 'im nervous", and grabbed Vince again.

"Get off!" Vince pushed Russell Brand hard and tried to escape across the stage, but Russell Brand grabbed him again, still laughing, looking slightly possessed, and hauled Vince up against him in a rather rough hug. He leant towards Vince's face.

There were more whoops and screams, and a few cries of "Kiss him!"

"Keep away from me!" Vince yelped, leaning over backwards as far as he could. The other man's arms dug into his back, stopping him falling over but also stopping him escaping. They looked as though they were doing a kind of bizarre interpretive dance: Vince almost bent in half; Russell Brand tangled over the top of him and still apparently determined to give the audience the kiss they craved.

"Let go of him!" Backstage, Howard tried to run forwards, but Bollo, on a signal from Naboo, seized him. "Howard make scene! Make it worse!"

"But, Vince –!"

"Help!" Vince squeaked. He had no hair straightners to fight the man off with this time, and no Noel and Julian to come rushing to his rescue, the way they had that night with the chavs.

The audience at last seemed to be realising that all was not well. There were murmurs.

Howard clutched the edge of the stage as he watched Russell Brand trying to pull Vince back up into a standing position. He hissed something to the smaller man, who twisted away. Howard caught glimpse of his electro friend's face. Vince was flushed and streaked with sweat from the lights, and he looked absolutely terrified.

"What's he _doing?_" Howard gasped, almost feeling physically sick at Vince's obvious fear and his own helplessness.

Onstage, Russell Brand had tugged Vince back up. "Noel, what are you doin'? I'm not that ugly. They all love it, just..."

The audience were starting to get concerned. Some of them were standing up to see what was happening, and a voice called out, "Let go of him and carry on!"

Unfortunately for Vince, Russell Brand didn't seem interested in this advice. He was still apparently determined that the kiss would happen. Vince tried to shove him away, pushing the other man back, hands first on his chest, then on his face when he tried to lean in again.

There were sounds of alarm from the audience.

"We've got to get Vince off this stage!" Naboo cried.

"Yes!" Howard broke away from Bollo and lurched forwards.

Alexandra threw out her arm and grabbed him. "Wait! Think of an excuse to get Vince off, and make it something to do with Noel!"

"His brother's had an accident?"

"Yes, that's good; go!" Alexandra released Howard and he charged onto the stage.

The lights were burning. They pounded on Howard's eyes as he staggered forwards. He could hear the audience, voices starting to rise as they became more confused. "Get on with it!" someone yelled – and then there were more murmurs, gasps, a shriek, and applause. The audience had burst into applause. What? Had Russell Brand finally kissed Vince? Appalled, Howard, almost forgetting he could hardly see, rushed forwards – and then heard a girl's voice cry out, "Julian!"

He realised that all the people were clapping him.

Normally, Howard would have frozen, so shocked at the appreciation, so unable to believe that all his dreams of greatness were coming true, that he wouldn't have been able to move.

But now he didn't even think about it: he had to get to Vince. He hurried to the front of the stage, and caught sight of Vince, still being held by Russell Brand, but much more loosely as they both looked round in surprise – and, in Vince's case, relief – at Howard's arrival.

Howard held up his hands to the audience to get them to quieten. When they did, quite obediently, he turned hurriedly to Vince and Russell Brand and said, "Um... look, sorry to interrupt the show, but there's been an accident."

There were gasps from the crowd.

"What accident?" Russell Brand asked, releasing Vince.

Howard hesitated. What had Alexandra said Noel's brother's name was? Mark? Mick? Mike, that was it! "Mike!" he said.

"What?" Vince asked, staring at Howard.

There were murmurs from the crowd.

"Mike?" Russell Brand asked.

"Yes, Mike! Mike's had an accident!"

There were gasps in the audience.

"What 'appened?" Russell Brand asked, but Howard ignored him and focused on Vince. Vince was frowning, staring at him in obvious confusion. Oh God, please let him cotton on...

"Mike?" Vince said.

Oh dear.

"Yeah!" Howard's voice squeaked slightly with nerves. "Mike!"

Vince looked blank.

"Mike Mike!"

Nothing.

"Mike Mike Mike!"

Still nothing.

"Your brother!" Howard yelled.

Silence.

"I don't 'ave a brother," Vince said finally.

"Oh, Jesus Christ, Vince!" Howard exploded.

"Vince?" Russell Brand asked.

The audience were all almost mad now, shouting, obviously bewildered.

"Oh God," Naboo gasped backstage. "Oh God, now what?"

"Wait!" Alexandra seized Naboo's arm with one hand, Bollo's with the other, closed her eyes, muttered a few words – and everything went black.

Instantly, there were screams. People leapt up, frantic, and there were crashes as they fell over each other. Security guards all tried to run inside but couldn't get in because they couldn't see where they were going. The management panicked. More screams. Sounds of people running. A yelp. A thump.

And then, as suddenly as they had gone, the lights came back.

Everyone froze where they were: most making for the exits; some on the floor clutching their heads protectively; the security guards all jammed in the door; Russell Brand, who had fallen off the stage in the commotion, on top of about three women in the front row and looking like maybe this wasn't so bad after all...

And the two other men who had been on the stage were... gone.

xxxxxxx

"That –" Howard gasped, as they sprinted down the street, "Was close."

"What was 'e _doing?_" Vince whimpered, clutching Howard's arm as they ran.

"Bollo kill him if we meet again," grunted the gorilla, who was holding his hat on his head.

"Not if I don't do it first," Howard said.

"No time for this now!" Naboo panted. "Gotta – get away –"

"And what did – what did you do?" Vince asked Naboo.

"It was Alexandra, not me..."

"What did _you_ do?"

"Put the lights out momentarily," Alexandra said, smiling through gasps. She gave a breathless laugh. "That spell's never worked before –"

Suddenly, a car screeched up opposite.

"Oh God! Hurry! We can't let anyone see us!" Naboo cried, trying to haul Alexandra round the corner.

The car door flew open.

"Vince!" a voice cried.

"Noel!" Vince jerked away from Howard.

"No, Vince!" Howard shouted – but Vince had turned and was running back, across the road, towards the car, which Howard now saw was Julian's. Noel was out of the car and dashing towards Vince too, Julian struggling out of the driver's side...

Noel and Vince met in the middle of the street and in an instant Vince threw his arms round Noel's neck, and Noel pulled Vince against him...

And then Vince suddenly leapt backwards – and slapped Noel hard across the face, with a noise like a whip cracking.

Noel staggered, yelping with pain.

Julian seemed to wake up at that, and came rushing down the pavement towards them.

"You –!" Vince shouted, raising his hand to slap Noel again.

"Vince!" Howard rushed into the road as well.

"What's going on?" Naboo asked.

Vince slapped Noel again. "'Ow could you? 'Ow could you make me do all that stuff?"

"What?" Noel gasped, clutching his head, which seemed to be taking a serious battering of late.

"How could you? You – you _bastard!_" Another slap. "Writin' the show like that!"

"Vince!" Howard reached his friend and tried to grab his hand, but Vince pulled away. "Makin' me do all that to Howard –!" Yet another slap.

"Stop it!" This was Julian, arriving, forcing his way between Noel and Vince.

"Yes, stop it, please, Vince!" Howard begged.

"No!" Vince staggered, pointing at Noel. "He made me smash up that record and take the cape and write that stuff on the shop shutters and –" Vince swung his arm again but Julian seized it. "Stop it! Don't touch him!"

"No! Move!" Vince hurled himself round Julian and seized Noel's hair. Noel shrieked, partly from the pain, and partly from the fear that his hairstyle would be ruined.

"Vince!" Howard yelled.

Julian seized Vince round the middle and hauled him away from Noel. "Let – go –!"

"Vince!" Now Bollo careered into the street too, smacking into Julian and wrestling him off Vince. "Don't touch precious Vince or Bollo tear you in half!"

"Bollo!" Naboo yelled, rushing after his familiar, Alexandra behind him.

Vince, freed, screamed again and launched himself at Noel. Howard tried to grab him. "Vince! Please, calm down!"

Vince kicked Noel, struggling against Howard's arms.

"Vince, _stop!_" Howard tried to pull Vince backwards. Alexandra came to help. "Vince!" she said. "Please, just calm down and we can –"

"But he made me do all those things!" Vince wailed, as Alexandra and Howard each took one of his arms and succeeded in forcing him away from Noel, who reeled away, hair all over the place, staring at Vince in total shock.

Naboo, meanwhile, grabbed Bollo and dragged him, with impressive strength for his size, off Julian. "Control yourself, you mad ape, or I'll trade ya in for a frog!"

"He hurt precious Vince!" Bollo growled, but he didn't struggle. The indignity of being traded in for a frog, of all things, held him back.

Julian staggered slightly, rubbing his back, which felt like it had nearly been snapped. Naboo asked, "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, fine," Julian said – and then stopped. "Who are you?"

"I'm Naboo, that's who."

"Naboo?! What – what are you wearing?" Julian blinked at the jeans and jacket the others had forced the shaman into.

"It's a disguise," Naboo said, sounding slightly irritated.

For a few seconds, Julian just stared at this person who looked like Mike but wasn't. Then he remembered Noel and Vince. He spun round, and was relieved to see Howard and some girl restraining Vince. Noel was clutching his head.

Julian opened his mouth to call, "Noel, you okay?" – but stopped himself.

"What the 'ell was that about?" Noel was still gazing at Vince, mouth slightly open.

"You wrote all that stuff in the show!" Vince snarled, making another attempt to get away from Alexandra and Naboo.

"What's 'e talkin' about?" Noel asked.

"He's – he's upset about some of the stuff you made him do in the television programme," Howard explained, breathing heavily from the effort of restraining his friend.

"What stuff?" Noel asked. If either of them were going to be upset about stuff that had happened in the show, shouldn't it be Howard? He was almost always the butt of the jokes, after all...

Howard didn't answer. To tell the truth he wasn't quite sure how to answer without sounding self-centred. But Vince answered for him: "Just cos you wanna treat all your friends like shit doesn't mean I do!"

"_What?_" Noel asked.

Vince stopped fighting against Howard and Alexandra. But his blue eyes were blazing. Noel wondered if that was how he looked when he was angry. He didn't like it much.

"You wrote all that stuff!" Vince shouted. "With me, doin' all that to Howard, with the record and the writin' on the shop shutters and all that –"

"What's he talking about?" Julian asked.

"Couldn't you 'ave stopped him?" Vince asked, turning to Julian, his eyes huge. His voice broke a little: "Why d'you have to put all that in? Why did you have to make me such a – such a –?"

"He's upset about what we made him do?" Julian asked, sounding incredulous.

"Yeah..." Noel said. He turned back to Vince. "Vince, it was all a joke. Getting Vince – you – to do that stuff... It was funny. It made people laugh."

"Didn't make Howard laugh, did it?" Vince retorted.

"Yeah, but, Vince, we didn't know –"

"Didn't know we existed, I know!" Vince snapped. "But even so! Makin' people laugh about stuff like that, s'not very good, is it? It's kinda bad taste. And just cos you hate him –" He nodded at Julian "– doesn't mean you have to make me hate Howard."

There was silence at that.

Howard was stunned. He'd never heard Vince this eloquent before.

Noel's mouth was slightly open, like he had been going to say something but now couldn't conjure up the words.

It was quite rare for Noel to be rendered speechless.

Julian looked at him rather anxiously – and then didn't stop looking.

Because Noel looked – he looked – he looked so upset. So... so worse than upset. He was looking at Vince as though Vince had just stripped him in the street. With the bruises on his face – which, Julian remembered with a horrified shudder, he had inflicted – he looked so awful that Julian sprang forwards. "Okay, let's just – stop this now," he said, because he couldn't bear seeing Noel looking like that. "Calm down, Vince. We didn't know it was going to be causing problems for anybody, did we?"

Vince sniffed. "S'pose not."

"Now, look," said Julian, "Noel needs to get to this show he's doing –"

"No, he doesn't," said Naboo.

"Sorry, what?"

"He doesn't. Vince did it."

"Vince?" Julian asked.

"Well. Vince wrecked it," Naboo conceded.

"It wasn't just me!" Vince protested. "You were the ones that put all the lights out! And anyway, it was that freaky man, gettin' all feely on everybody, me and Alexandra –"

"What?" Noel asked weakly.

"There was this crazy bloke leapin' around!" Vince cried.

"Another comedian in the show; what did you say his name was, Alexandra –?" Naboo asked.

"Russell Brand," said Alexandra rather awkwardly, thinking that the story of what had happened at the show probably wouldn't go down too well.

"Oh God!" Noel said.

"What did you do, Vince?" Julian asked.

"It wasn't really Vince's fault," Howard said hastily. "He got taken on the stage – they thought he was Noel. We had to get him off, he was causing a bit of a scene –"

"That other man was trying to kiss me!" Vince protested.

"– He didn't mean to wreck it," Howard finished.

Noel looked from Vince to Howard and back again.

Then he suddenly snorted.

"Are you laughing?" Julian asked. There was Noel, hair everywhere, face battered, jacket hanging off one shoulder from the struggle with Vince – laughing.

"Oh God," Noel said, spluttering. "Sorry. It's just... I can so imagine Russell's face!"

"It's not _his _face you need to be worrying about; it's the faces of everyone else there!" Julian said. "It's the faces of the journalists as they write this into their papers!"

"It was 'is face _I_ needed to worry about," Vince said darkly. "He had this horrible beard and everythin'; he kept rubbin' on me, it was disgusting..."

"Noel –" Julian said, still thinking that this would be all over the tabloids tomorrow and probably circulating the internet already.

But Noel was still chuckling over Vince's description of Russell Brand's beard.

xxxxxxx

They went back to the hotel.

In the end, they couldn't think of a way to go to the Royal Albert Hall and apologise, as they had no possible excuse for what had happened.

"Maybe I'll have to say I was high or somethin'," Noel said.

But it seemed dangerous standing in the street quite nearby, when people could easily be coming from the disaster (show) and see them together: Noel, Julian, Vince and Howard. So they went back to the hotel.

Alexandra was introduced to Noel and Julian. Naboo and Bollo were, too, although that introduction was a bit weird, as Noel and Julian kind of knew them already.

By the time they got back, everyone was so tired from the events of the day – and especially the evening – that they just went to bed.

xxxxxxx

_The stage door was looming. Vince struggled violently to escape, but someone was holding him tightly by the arm, gripping so hard all the blood was being cut off... his whole arm was being cut off... and when he looked down he saw that his arm had really been cut off. It had gone._

_He screamed._

_"My arm! My arm's gone, where's it gone –?"_

_"It's been erased, me dear fellow," said a voice, and Vince saw it was Russell Brand who was holding him._

_"Erased? And let go of me! Where are ya takin' me?"_

_"We're goin' onstage, Noel!" Russell Brand cried. "Now the show's cancelled you can be onstage with me forever, me dear fellow!" And he flung open the stage door, pushing Vince through it – but there wasn't a stage. There was Noel and Julian._

_"We're killing them," Julian said. "Howard and Vince."_

_And Vince looked down to see his other arm, his legs, his whole body, had gone; everything was fading... and he thought he could hear rather manic laughter as he exploded into pieces of glitter..._

Vince jerked awake with a gasp.

To his relief, sunlight was streaming through the window, meaning he wouldn't have to try and get over his bad dream and go back to sleep. He pushed his hair back off his forehead, where it had stuck from sweating. His stomach was still lurching, the way it often does when you wake up from a nightmare, in the minutes before you realise it really was only a dream...

But, with a jolt, Vince remembered it wasn't only a dream. He really would be wiped out of existence if they didn't convince Noel and Julian not to cancel.

He got up, stretching a bit, glancing fondly at Howard, who was curled in the bed next to his, still sleeping, his hair sticking up. He really did look much better with no moustache...

He padded out of the bedroom into the main room. Bollo was snoring on the floor. Alexandra and Naboo were sleeping on the sofa. Naboo's head was on Alexandra's shoulder.

Vince smiled at them, but he felt a slight stab of some sharp emotion – he wasn't quite sure what – in his chest. He thought of himself and Noel on that same sofa, only a few nights ago. He thought of how Noel's hands had slid down his back, how longing and wonderful the kisses had been.

Vince didn't know what to think about that.

He went to the bathroom to wash, and back to the bedroom to get dressed, all the time his head spinning.

He knew, as well as everyone else did, that Noel was him. Noel acted him. And Noel hadn't exactly treated him very well, had he? He'd written the scripts that had made Vince do all those things to Howard he now regretted so much.

But...

He remembered, not only the kissing, but the dancing, how well their bodies had fitted together, as though they were made to fit together – not made to be each other but made to be next to each other. He remembered them sitting on the sofa together, looking out over the London lights.

Vince had never wanted much from anybody. The most he ever wanted was a casual one-night stand.

Was he perhaps being punished for his shallow ways? That when he finally met someone he wanted, it was – himself?

Suddenly, the door banged.

"'Ello?"

Noel.

As though to taunt him a bit further.

Vince couldn't help himself though: he hastily fluffed up his hair, ran a little more eyeliner along the rim of each eye, and hurried out of the room. "Noel!"

"Vince! Hey." Noel smiled, slightly awkwardly, perhaps because Vince had slapped him several times the night before.

And now he was in the daylight, not under the hazy glare of street lamps like he had been last night...

"What 'appened to your face?" Vince asked, shocked.

"What did?" Noel asked, looking worried.

"It's all bruised!" Vince gasped suddenly. "Did – did I do that?"

"Oh, that! Nah, that was Julian."

"Julian?"

"Yeah, we – we 'ad a bit of a row."

The mark on Noel's face made it look like it had been more than a bit of a row, but it reminded Vince that they needed to talk about the TV show.

But before he could marshal his thoughts (something that was always a bit of an effort for Vince), Noel spoke.

"Hey, Vince, look – I'm sorry about the show."

Vince stopped, caught off guard. "Huh?"

"I'm sorry I –" Noel sighed. "What you said last night, I didn't –"

"S'okay," Vince said. "I was just a bit – I know you didn't –"

He broke off. They gazed at each other.

After a few moments, Noel swallowed heavily. He knew Vince was remembering what had happened between them a few nights ago, the kisses, the way they'd touched each other. He was, too.

He couldn't do this. There was so many reasons why he couldn't do this. But it was so hard when Vince was looking at him like that, with his dark fringe teasing his eyelashes and his face so pale and razor-sharp and perfect, and his eyes so big and trusting and... loving?

"Noel," Vince said.

"Yes?" It came out as a kind of croak. Noel cleared his throat and tried again: "Yeah?"

"Noel, you and Julian..."

Noel stiffened, and not in the way he'd been worrying a few moments earlier that he might. "What about me and Julian?"

"I mean..." Vince hesitated. He knew he had to approach this subject carefully. "Why – why are you –?"

"Why are we what? Why are we workin' together? I ask myself the same thing..."

"No," Vince said. "Why are ya... why are ya stoppin'?"

Noel looked at him.

_Because he's a fuckin' bastard._

_Because I'm a fuckin' bastard._

_I don't know._

"We – we don't get on any more," he said. He winced a bit at his voice: coming out as though he was thinking Vince was stupid for not getting it. He didn't think Vince was stupid for not getting it. Or, if he did, then he was just as stupid as Vince, because he didn't get it either.

"But why?" Vince asked. "What 'appened?"

Noel really didn't know how to answer this time.

_Because he can't deal with me bein' more famous._

_Because we're too different._

_Because we started fighting and couldn't stop._

_Because when we get together to write, when we see each other, we're always just rememberin' the arguments._

_Because we're stubborn._

_Because we're stupid._

_Because he threw a drink over me during a row at an NME gig, in front of all these photographers._

_Because I hit him in the eye with an ash tray during the last tour._

_Because he's too boring for me, too reserved, not the kind I hang out with anymore; because he makes me look stupid; because he cramps my style._

_Because he says I'm like a prostitute, I'm a circus monkey, I'm an egotistic show-off, I've changed and he doesn't know who I am any more..._

_Because I don't know who I am any more._

_Because I can't tell him any of the things I really think and I don't know why._

_Because we started fightin' and we just never learnt to stop._

_Because we didn't realise it had changed until it was too late._

"We – we just don't." Noel put a hand to his mouth, suddenly horrified to find what felt like a sob threatening to escape.

"Noel –" Vince started, reaching out for him.

But Noel couldn't let Vince touch him, because if Vince touched him again...

"Vince, I –" Noel took a step away.

Vince's face was more than he could bear. Especially in that moment, as he stepped away, when it seem to collapse. Vince stared at him, his eyes huge, and longing, and so... so despairing.

"I –" Noel didn't know what he wanted to say to Vince either, so he just turned and dashed out.

Oh, there you go, doing it again, you stupid, stupid idiot... ruin everything, don't you? Why can't you tell people how you feel? Why can't you just look at Vince and tell him the truth about all this? That you can't let him get too near because...? And as for Julian...

Julian.

xxxxxxx

"I can _feel_ how it's breaking," Naboo said later that morning.

The five of them were sitting around in their room, having a serious talk about how to go about saving the TV show.

"I can feel the splittin' between them," Naboo told the others. "It's almost painful. This is bad. Really bad juju. We've got to talk to them."

"We can't," Vince said.

"What?" Naboo asked.

"I tried, earlier," Vince said.

"Vince! You didn't say!" Howard said. He'd thought Vince had seemed a bit down, but he hadn't thought it was because of that.

"No. I didn't. Noel came in, and I tried to talk to 'im about it. And he wouldn't. He wouldn't talk."

Naboo groaned and rested his forehead on the heels of his hands.

"Come on," said Alexandra. "We've got to sort this out. And if we can't talk to them about it, we've got to get them to talk to each other."

"How we do that?" Bollo asked.

"Well, there must be some way –"

"Make them dance!"

This was Vince.

Everyone else looked up and stared at him.

"Make them _dance?_" Howard repeated.

"Yeah!" Vince suddenly seemed to have forgotten his upset over the earlier conversation. His eyes were shining with excitement at the idea. "It works in movies – they dance and they realise they love each other and it's all okay!"

"This isn't a chick flick, Vince!" Howard said, exasperated. "You can't just make people do a little slow dance together and all their problems are solved!"

"But we 'ave to make 'em do _something_," Vince said. "And what else is there?"

"Well –" Howard started, and then stopped.

Naboo had leant forward. "Look. Didn't you say you went out with them?"

"Yes," said Howard darkly, remembering how drunk he'd got.

"Yeah," said Vince, half shuddering at the memory of the men who had attacked them and half smiling at the memory of Noel protecting him.

"Well, why don't you try it again? We'll go to a club or somethin'; we'll just get 'em to spend time together." He looked around at the others. "It'll take some engineering, makin' it happen, but what else can we do? Let them talk. Let them be with each other. Maybe they'll –"

Vince was nodding, grinning. "Let's do it."

"I'm in," Alexandra said, with a faint laugh. "We've got no choice."

"Alexandra right. No choice," said Bollo.

Everyone looked at Howard.

"I still think it's not a chick flick," Howard grumbled.

"Howard...?" Vince started.

"What if it doesn't work?" Howard asked.

"Howard..." Vince looked at his friend. "You've gotta help. I need you if we're gonna do it."

"What do you need me for?" Howard asked.

"Howard, you idiot! We're one complete person, remember? 'Ow am I s'posed to do this if I'm only a half?"

Howard sighed.

Vince could always make him melt.

He looked at his friend's sparkling blue eyes, eager and desperate for him to join them, and then round at Naboo, Bollo and Alexandra.

"All right, little man. Let's get this worked out."

**And another dun dun DUH!! is called for!**

**Action really starts up in the next chapter! We've probably only got a few more to go after this, but I promise, they will be chock-a-block with action and emotion! Really!**

**I am halfway through the next chapter, so it might be up tomorrow, if I get time to finish it... but I actually need to do some work tomorrow (grr) and then in the evening I'm seeing IAMX (!!) so Friday looks more likely.**

**As for "Bliss", I am writing the next chapter of that too, but it might not be updated until I have uploaded a few more chapters on this, cos I am really addicted to this, like I said, and we're nearing the end! Thank you all so much for following it. I love you lot.**

**violence x**


	15. Breaks My Heart

**I'm BACK!! And exhausted, with a very sore neck from head-banging! That's right, head-banging! Because IAMX yesterday was the best gig I have been to in forever and we were jumping and head-banging all through!!  
In honour of the lovely Chris (who really is unbelievably lovely, especially when he's holding your hand and singing...) we have an IAMX song in this chapter.**

**We also have a hell of a lot of angsting, and some more Noel/Vince for all you fans of that. And there's also some Naboo and Alexandra love for the first time, and I hope it's not too sappy!!**

**Disclaimers:  
The Mighty Boosh and its characters belong to Julian Barratt and Noel Fielding.  
All "real life" characters belong to themselves.  
****The song Noel and Vince dance to is "Spit It Out" by IAMX. (Of course.)  
****The song Naboo and Alexandra can hear is "Iris" by the Goo Goo Dolls (I wasn't sure whether to use it for Noel and Vince or Naboo and Alexandra, but I already had Spit It Out for Noel and Vince.)  
**"**Fergalicious" is by Fergie and is possibly one of the most ridiculous and hilarious songs ever.  
****The song Noel (sort of) quotes is "Rehab" by Amy Winehouse.  
Also, the bit about Noel kicking a door in Julian's face is something that apparently really happened once.**

**Warning:  
Contains one "c-word"! Cover the eyes of any little 'uns.**

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen**

**_"It breaks my heart, that we live this way..."_**

"What do you think?" Vince asked, parading out of the bedroom, once again in his dress, and doing a little twirl.

Bollo, who was back in the coat and hat, studied him. "Vince look like kinky seductress," he said, after a minute.

Vince giggled.

Howard entered, again in the clothes Vince had bought him for the last time they went out.

Bollo blinked in surprise. "Howard look like human being, for once."

"Thanks, Bollo," Howard said dryly.

Vince grinned. "You look good, though, Howard! There were a some women checkin' you out in that club last time you went out like that!"

"Yes, well," Howard said, shifting uncomfortably with his collar and trying not to let himself hope, because he'd hoped so many times before, "They were only checking me out because they thought I was a TV star, weren't they?"

"Howard, Julian was right next to you. They didn't think you were 'im. I could tell. Two girls, right, they came up to say hi to Noel and they actually said, who's that guy next to Julian? Like they liked you."

"Really?" Howard looked incredulous.

"Really," Vince said.

"Oh," Howard said, standing up a bit straighter. "Well, you see? What do I always tell you, Vince? Women just can't resist the charms of Howard Moon. I'm going to put on more aftershave..." And he disappeared again.

Bollo rolled his eyes. "Vince too nice, to make up all that stuff."

"I wasn't makin' it up," Vince said.

Bollo opened his mouth, but then was so stunned at the idea that two girls had _really_ been interested in the usually so unattractive jazz maverick that he couldn't speak, and so he just left it hanging open.

"Some girls here like that kind of thing," Vince said, nodding after Howard. He decided not to tell Bollo about the girls on the tube the day they went to Topshop. It might give the gorilla a heart attack with the shock of it all.

Bollo was already looking deeply confused. "Bollo not understand this world," he sighed.

There was a noise at the door, and a moment later, Alexandra entered, in a tight-fitting black dress.

"Wow!" Vince said, grinning again. "You look great! Where did that come from?"

Alexandra grinned back. She didn't seem at all phased by the fact that Vince was in drag. "Naboo and I went out to get him some better clothes to wear tonight, and I found this."

"I thought I 'adn't seen you guys for a while!" Vince said. "Why didn't you take me shoppin'?"

"Naboo obviously good shopping partner," said Bollo, also admiring Alexandra's dress. "Bollo take him next time I go bargain hunting."

"Cheek! You could take me!" Vince said.

"Bollo not do that," said Bollo. "Vince get distracted by own reflection."

"True," Vince said, laughing.

"Anyway," said Alexandra, "Naboo doesn't know I bought this. I left him paying for something and went and grabbed it."

"Oh," Vince said, smiling at Alexandra. "Surprise, is it? Out to impress?"

Alexandra looked a bit shy. Then she smiled back at Vince. "I'm not the only trying to impress tonight."

It was Vince's turn to look shy. "'E's already seen this outfit once," he said, slightly regretfully.

"Well, I think you look gorgeous," Alexandra said, earning her a grateful smile from the mod. "Where's Howard, anyway?"

"Howard think he sex god. Put on more aftershave," Bollo said, rolling his eyes. "Where's Naboo?"

"Getting the carpet ready. He's already dressed."

At that moment, there was a noise by the window, and everyone turned to see Naboo, in jeans and a jacket that actually fitted him, and his turban (this was a compromise, because he felt so uncomfortable without it) hovering outside on the rug.

"Naboo, ya prick," Vince said. "We don't need the carpet; we got Julian's car."

"There won't be room for all of us," Naboo said. "'Specially not with Bollo."

Bollo gave a faint growl.

"Shut up, Bollo. What've I told you about growling at people?" Naboo snapped at his familiar. He turned back to Vince. "You, Howard, Noel and Julian can go in the car. Bollo and I will go on the carpet with A..." His voice tailed off. His eyes fixated on a point behind Vince.

"What? Naboo –" Vince waved his hand in the shaman's sight line but he didn't blink.

Vince turned round – and realised that Naboo had noticed Alexandra, standing in her tight black dress.

"Naboo go funny again," Bollo muttered.

That brought the shaman round. "You ball bag! Shut up or I'll turn my back on –"

"Are we ready to go?" asked Howard, coming into the bedroom at just the right time to spare Bollo the back-turning.

"We would be, if your twins would hurry up," Naboo said, glancing at Alexandra again when he thought no-one was looking.

"Maybe I'll go see if they're ready!" Vince said, starting towards the door.

"Vince –" Howard began, but he didn't finish, because at that moment, the door swung open.

"We're ready!" Noel announced, bursting through – and then stopping when he saw Vince.

Vince gave Noel a rather awkward smile. They hadn't spoken since their conversation that morning – Alexandra and Howard had convinced Noel and Julian to come out (more Alexandra and less Howard) – and he had been hoping that tonight would be a chance for them to make up. But now, seeing Noel standing there, in his oh-so-enticing tight jeans, Vince's stomach flipped and he wasn't sure he'd be able to do much talking to do any making up at all.

He could feel Howard looking at him. He could almost hear his best friend's voice: "What are you doing?" And Naboo's voice: "You could never be together, even if you weren't the same person."

But then Noel gave Vince a faint half-smile, and all the voices were erased.

Julian appeared behind Noel, looking almost as worried as Howard did. He was a bit alarmed at this prospect of another outing with Howard and Vince, and with Naboo and Bollo there this time (Alexandra probably wouldn't cause too much of a scene), especially after last night at the Royal Albert Hall. Noel had had people, including a very confused Russell Brand, on the phone all day, asking him what had happened. He'd just gone with his original excuse. Well, he'd said he was drunk, not high. That had been Julian's idea. "Don't say you were on drugs," he'd said. "If that gets out the papers will have a field day. They'll be saying you should go to rehab."

"I'll say no, no, no..." Noel had murmured, but he'd taken Julian's advice.

Alexandra had suggested this night out. Julian didn't really understand why Noel had been so eager.

Although, of course, he did.

Noel wanted another night with Vince.

xxxxxxx

All the same, once they were in the club, Noel didn't look as happy as he normally did to have people looking at him.

They weren't smiling appreciatively the way they normally did. In fact most of them were looking at him as though he was mad, which wasn't something Noel was used to at all. He was used to people flocking around him.

Julian thought he'd be feeling smug about this: Noel not being adored for once. But he didn't. Not at all. Instead, he just wanted to protect Noel from them all. The way he always used to.

Howard, Vince, Naboo, Bollo and Alexandra had a quick, whispered conference.

"Right," said Naboo. "Remember the plan. We got to get Noel and Julian to spend time together. So we've got to make ourselves pretty scarce."

The others all nodded. "What are you going to do, Naboo?" Howard asked.

"We can go off on the magic carpet," Naboo said.

"Are we goin' too?" Vince asked.

Naboo shook his head.

"Naboo, what are we supposed to do?" Howard asked.

"You're s'posed to calm them down," Naboo said, nodding to Noel and Julian. "Stop 'em looking like they're about to be fed to lions. Relax 'em. It'll work better that way. And anyway, if we all disappear now they'll notice. You stay for a while and then go later."

"Are you going _now_?" Howard was starting to panic.

Naboo nodded. "I don't do clubs," he said.

"I do," Vince said, grinning.

"Yeah, Vince, you sort him out." Naboo glanced at Noel.

"Naboo!" Howard yelped.

"Shh! Our lives depend on it. They're supposed to be signing the contracts tomorrow," Naboo said. He nodded to Howard and Vince. "Good luck."

"Good luck," Alexandra repeated. She gave Vince a hug. Then she turned to Howard and gave him a hug too. Fortunately she didn't notice how he stiffened in alarm at being touched.

Bollo grunted at the two men, and followed Naboo and Alexandra out of the club.

"What're you bettin' Naboo and Alexandra just make out all night?" Vince asked, giggling.

Howard couldn't help thinking that a more appropriate question might have been, "What're you bettin' that Noel and I just make out all night?" Because Vince was already turning towards his doppelganger, tossing back his hair.

Howard had to remind himself very, very firmly that, as Naboo had said, their lives depended on Noel and Julian being in the mood to talk to each other properly. And if getting Noel in that mood meant using Vince, well, Howard might not like it, but he'd just have to accept it, because the alternative was them all dying, and that meant Vince as well...

xxxxxxx

Vince walked, slightly unsteadily, over to Noel.

He was used to walking in heels, but this time, his legs would have been shaking even if he had been in totally flat shoes.

He couldn't help thinking that this might be their last time together. Even Vince knew this was a stupid thing to be worrying about, when there were far more pressing issues at hand, and when Noel had written Vince as a kind of self-absorbed, shallow bitch, but he couldn't help it.

He joined Noel by the bar. "'Ey."

"Vince!" Noel spun round, and then remembered Vince was supposed to be a woman. "Um, I mean..." he muttered, "What do I call you, when you're a girl?"

Vince giggled. "Doesn't matter."

They looked at each other. Vince had the sudden urge to brush Noel's fringe out of his eyes, the way he had done that night on the sofa...

But he couldn't let himself get distracted now. "'Ey, Noel?"

"Yeah?"

"Look, I'm sorry, 'bout earlier..."

"S'okay," Noel said, shaking his head. "I was a bit of a cunt."

"No," Vince said.

"Hey, d'you want a drink?" Noel asked. "I was gonna get one."

"I'd rather..." Vince couldn't stop himself leaning in slightly. He was such a natural flirt, he almost did it without thinking – even though his stomach was in knots and he almost didn't understand how he was being so... so enticing...

But he was being it, and very much so. Noel swallowed. "Rather... what?"

"Well, shall we dance?" Vince said, nodding to the floor.

Noel drew in his breath.

He remembered being on the dance floor with Vince, of course he did. He remembered Vince's hands all up his back, Vince's hair on his face, his breath in his ear. He shouldn't... he shouldn't do it...

An electro beat started up as the DJ put on a new song. Noel vaguely registered that it was familiar.

Vince grinned as he heard it. "This sounds good!" he said, tapping his foot in its heel. Noel took in the length of his leg in its tights, moving, the muscles shifting temptingly...

"I know the guy... he's one of my mates." Was he showing off? And showing off through someone else? Trying anything to make himself sound cool?

"The guy who wrote this?" Vince asked.

"Yeah."

"Cool!" Vince said. "Well, let's do your mate a bit of justice and dance, shall we?" And he blinked at Noel with those huge blue eyes.

How could Noel resist?

Vince took his hands and Noel allowed himself to be led onto the floor as the music swelled. Noel hesitated as Vince slowed. He didn't know what to do. He wanted his hands on Vince's waist, round his neck, all over Vince's body... but he couldn't...

"C'mon," Vince said, swinging his hips slightly.

_And if you're hurting... I will replace the noise with silence instead... flushing out your head..._

Vince reached out, slightly hesitantly, and took Noel's hands. A second later Noel pulled him close, roughly, so their noses almost crashed into each other.

_If you like it violent... we can play rough and tumble, fall into bed..._

Vince's hands met behind Noel's head, running through his hair.

_And I won't breathe so you can recover..._

Noel felt their bodies swaying in time to the all-consuming beat; the fluid beat that made them think they were in control while ruling over them at the same time – but he was hardly aware of them doing it. Vince's eyes, and his smile, were all he was really conscious of...

_And you're in pieces... just follow the echo of my voice, it's okay... tune into that frequency..._

Vince swayed his hips against Noel's, his heels clicking on the floor as they danced. Noel gasped slightly at the movement against him.

_Don't fight your reflex... embrace the instinct... you can feel your way... through the bed and weak face in the end..._

Noel ran his hands down Vince's back, and swung him round and backwards as the music swelled...

_Cos it breaks my heart... that we live this way..._

Vince's leg tangled round Noel's, his body possessed by the rhythm, the heat of their bodies close together rising...

_I know people need love... then people never play the game..._

Vince's hands were in Noel's hair again, stroking it backwards; Noel's hands tracing down Vince's spine...

_And we talk the talk... we communicate..._

Vince gasped faintly...

_Then people need love... those people never play the game..._

As the chorus ended, Vince broke away, and danced across the floor, eyes slightly wild and dark, hair even darker, beckoning to Noel. Noel followed like a man possessed. All he could see was the silhouette of Vince against the lights...

_Pleasure for pleasure... its ease is consequence, enough for a fall..._

Noel found Vince's body, pressing himself up against it, driven by the beat and the feeling and friction of flesh against flesh...

_I know you love to take the risk..._

Noel pulled Vince round to face him. Vince let out his breath at the violent pressing of their bodies against each other, their chests close...

_The past is weakness, don't beg the question..._

And there was no time on this dance floor, no present or future or past, just Noel and Vince and their bodies close and touching, and their faces close and breath mingling...

_When the answer is war... there are moments when I'm overcome..._

Vince's hands were on Noel's neck, on his jaw line, over his face...

_Cos it breaks my heart... _

Noel's mouth found Vince's, hot, trembling...

_That we live this way..._

Vince kissed him back, sucking at Noel's lips, longing...

_I know people need love... _

Noel's tongue slid into Vince's mouth...

_Then people never play the game..._

Noel's arms went round Vince's waist, holding him tighter, tighter... Vince pressed against him, as though they were trying to combine their bodies...

_And we talk the talk..._

Noel's hands moved up and clutched at Vince's face...

_We communicate..._

Vince drew away slightly, gasping...

_Then people need love..._

"Noel..."

"Vince..."

And then they were kissing again, almost desperately...

_Those people never play the game..._

They swung to the rhythm, mouths together, never, ever wanting to let each other go...

_And it breaks my heart..._

_And it breaks my heart..._

_In love..._

xxxxxxx

_And I'd give up forever to touch you_

_Cos I know that you feel me somehow_

_You're the closest to heaven that I've ever been_

_And I don't wanna go home right now_

Out over the river Thames, something was hovering, seeming to float on the reflections of the lights of London. A small, rectangular shape, on which two figures sat.

The music was audible from another club on the bank behind them, ghosting across the water:

_And all I can taste is this moment_

_And all I can breathe is your life_

_And sooner or later it's over_

_I just don't wanna miss you tonight_

"Good view of the lights?" Naboo asked.

Alexandra looked at him. Her eyes were shining.

"I love the lights," she'd said, as they walked down the street together. ("Go on. Bollo wait to see what happens," Bollo had said, knowing they wanted some time alone.)

"It's gorgeous," she said now, smiling beautifully. She reached out, and a moment later Naboo realised her fingers had curled round his.

He looked at her. Alexandra was looking straight ahead again, still smiling at the lights, the breeze from the river teasing loose strands of her hair.

So Naboo just held her hand back, and they sat and looked at the brilliant glow of the tall buildings, and the London Eye, and the theatres, and a row of trees with blue lights in their branches. A boat, also covered in lights, sailed by.

"Imagine if they saw us!" Alexandra said.

"They can't," Naboo said. "I put a cloaking spell on the carpet."

Alexandra grinned. "Think of everything, don't you?"

"I didn't at the Royal Albert Hall – that was you."

She shook her head. "I said, that spell's never worked before. I don't know why I thought of doing it; just something told me to... like I thought..." She broke off.

"What?"

She shrugged. "Nothing."

"No, what?"

"It sounds stupid!"

"I'm sure it won't," he pressed. "Tell me."

"Okay," she said. "It's just... I kind of felt... I could do it, if you were there." And then she turned and looked back at the lights, which seemed to slide through her hair as she moved.

Naboo couldn't speak, so he squeezed her hand. She squeezed back.

"Alexandra –" he started, just as she said, "Naboo –"

They both broke off and laughed gently.

"What?" he said.

"No, you say."

"No, I was just going to ask, how did you become a Wiccan? Were you born into it?"

Alexandra shook her head. "Oh, no. I just, I don't know – felt a kind of calling from it, I guess. My parents don't even know. They wouldn't approve. They think I'm weird enough as it is. They moved to Edinburgh a couple of years ago and I hardly ever see them now." She sighed softly.

"I'm sorry," said Naboo.

"Don't be. I don't miss them."

"But you look –" He reached out with his other hand and touched her face lightly with one finger. She shivered a little.

"Sad," he finished.

"Yeah, well," she said. "No-one would want to feel their own parents were embarrassed by them, would they?"

"What about your brothers and sisters?"

"I don't have any. Or any other close family, really." She sighed and then smiled. "Listen to me! Being all depressive." She paused. "What about you? Do you have family?"

Naboo shook his head. "I'm a shaman," he said. "We generally don't have families, cos – we don't really settle down and 'ave kids, the way other people do."

"Isn't it a bit lonely?"

"No more lonely than not seeing your parents."

"Then it must be quite lonely," she said, looking him right in the eye.

A few seconds later their lips brushed. They hesitated – and then the faint kiss became a full, proper one, and Alexandra shifted closer as Naboo cupped her cheek –

And then they both jerked away.

"I'm sorry," Alexandra said.

"No, I'm sorry," Naboo said.

"It can't work. It can't work," said Alexandra. "You're from a different world; you're gonna be going home and..." Her voice broke, very slightly.

"You're right," said Naboo faintly, wishing she wasn't. But he didn't let go of her hand as they turned away from each other. She didn't try to make him. They just sat, looking out over the shifting of the water and the London lights, wishing Alexandra wasn't right.

_And I don't want the world to see me_

_Cos I don't think that they'd understand_

_When everything's made to be broken_

_I just want you to know who I am_

xxxxxxx

"Julian, have you seen Vince?"

Julian groaned softly to himself.

"I thought you were with him," he said.

"I was," Noel said. He was standing next to Julian at the bar, frowning. "But 'e went to the bathroom and 'e 'asn't come back."

"Well, he's probably doing his make-up," Julian said.

Noel nodded. "Well... I guess I'll just wait."

And he leant against the bar by Julian.

xxxxxxx

"Vince, quick!" Howard hissed.

"Okay, okay!" Vince snapped, half in and half out of the bathroom window.

It had taken long enough to drag Vince away from Noel, Howard thought, and now this! "For God's sake!" he growled. "If anyone sees us they'll think we're committing a crime! We'll get arrested, and that wouldn't be good!"

"I know, I know... fuck!"

"What now?"

"Me dress... it's got caught..."

"Oh, Christ," Howard groaned, as Vince reached back inside to try and un-hook himself.

"I told ya we should just walk out the door," Vince said, struggling with his dress.

"And I told you it'd be too obvious! They'd have seen us! Will you come on?"

"All _right_... done..." Vince managed to free his dress, and hauled himself the rest of the way through the window. Howard grabbed his arms as he came wriggling out and steadied him. "Okay?"

"Yeah," Vince said, panting slightly. He turned back to look at the club. "Fine..."

"Vince?" Howard asked, biting his lip. He knew they should go... but of course, he'd seen what had happened on the dance floor earlier. How could he have helped seeing? Practically the whole club had seen.

"I'm fine," Vince said, too quickly. "Let's go watch." And he set off down the pavement, ankles shaking slightly in his heels. That wasn't like Vince at all, not being able to walk in heels. That was partly how Howard knew he wasn't really fine.

xxxxxxx

"Christ, where is 'e?" Noel muttered, tapping his fingers on the top of the bar.

"Maybe he's seen sense," Julian muttered to himself.

"What?" Noel asked.

"Nothing."

"No." Noel sighed and leant his head on his hands. "I heard ya."

"Noel –" Julian started, "I didn't –"

"Yes, you did – but I don't blame ya." Noel looked up at Julian. "Julian... do you think you always write characters that you'd want to know, if they were real?"

"What?"

"Well, like, do you think you write characters that you'd get on with, if you ever did meet them?"

Julian shrugged. "I don't know. I wouldn't exactly say Howard would be my first choice for a friend."

Noel chuckled.

"That wasn't a joke."

"I know, but it just – sounded funny." Noel sighed. "I always thought Vince would be kinda cool –"

"Noel, you yourself often said that he was a shallow, self-obsessed little slut."

"Yeah, but in a cool way."

"Only you would think there was a cool way to be a shallow, self-obsessed slut," Julian said.

"But that's why everyone loves me," Noel said, totally straight-faced.

It was Julian's turn to laugh.

Noel did too. "I'm right!" he protested. "That's why!"

"The sad thing is, you are right. Everyone does like you because you think there's a cool way to be shallow and self-obsessed. No, more than that: you make it cool to be shallow and self-obsessed."

Noel laughed again. But then he looked serious. "I'm not _really_ shallow and self-obsessed."

"Yes, you are," Julian said, still laughing.

"I can be not shallow and self-obsessed, when the mood takes me."

"Oh yeah? Like when?"

"Like..." Noel paused.

"See, you can't think of any times!"

"I can! Look, the number of times I've listened to your depressin' problems, I practically deserved to be canonised!"

"You know some big words tonight," Julian said.

Noel pulled a face and punched Julian's arm. Then he looked round. "Where _is_ he?" he mumbled to himself.

"Noel –"

"What?"

"I'm sure he's fine. He'll just be talking to Howard or something."

"I know!" Noel said. But Julian could tell by the way he turned away that he was a bit worried – or maybe he was just thinking about what had happened earlier on the dance floor...

"Look," Julian said, "Let's – let's get a drink."

Noel blinked.

"Well..." Julian hesitated, awkwardly. "We're at the bar, and –"

Noel was staring, apparently lost for words. Julian wouldn't ever get used to Noel being lost for words.

But after a moment Noel seemed to find his voice again, and he said, "I don't – I don't think I've got enough cash."

"I'll pay."

Noel smiled, still looking rather surprised. "Yeah. A'right. That'd be nice."

xxxxxxx

Round the back of the club, a short figure in a coat and large hat was huddled, watching the planes sail overhead.

A man emerged from the club, tucking his hand in his pockets and pulling out cigarettes. He nodded to the other person, got out a cigarette and lighter, and lit up.

"Hey," said the first person.

"Mm?"

"You got a fag?"

"Oh. Sure." The man handed the figure a cigarette and lit it for him. "There you go."

"Cheers." And Bollo, for it was he, took a drag and went back to waiting for his friends.

He didn't have any feeling. Good or bad.

xxxxxxx

"They're talking!" Howard whispered excitedly.

He and Vince were by the door of the club, trying to peer in without drawing attention to themselves too much.

"I know!" Vince clutched Howard's shirt. "It's workin', Howard!"

"Let's just go for a while, little man," Howard said. "Leave them to it. I don't want them looking up and noticing us now, when it's going so well."

"Okay," Vince said. He gave Noel's back a rather longing look – but then tripped off along the street after his bigger friend.

They walked slowly down to the river together.

"S'beautiful, isn't it, Howard?" Vince said.

"Yeah," Howard said, rather surprised, because Vince normally only used the word 'beautiful' about himself.

"Home is more beautiful, though," Vince said, leaning on the railings by the river.

Howard looked at him. "Really?"

"Yeah," Vince said dreamily. Then he glanced up and his eyes met Howard's. "Although," he said, with a slight laugh, "Y'know what? This has been, kinda, fun."

"Fun?" Howard gaped at Vince.

"Yeah! Don't look like that, it's been really freaky, a lot of it... but... I dunno. It has been kinda fun. A lot of the stuff we do is really freaky but kinda fun."

"You think it's _fun_? All the stuff we do?"

"Yeah!" Vince said. "Don't you?"

"Not really," Howard said, "If I'm honest."

"But – I mean, obviously it can be really scary, and really gross at times, when I get men pervin' on me," Vince said, "But – s'what we do, innit?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you know. It's what we do. Go on crazy little adventures."

"Yes, well. This has been quite a lot more than a crazy little adventure, Vince."

"I know, I know! And a lot of it I _hated_, 'specially all that with the telly show." Vince shuddered. "But... I don't know, Howard. I think it's been fun. We've been together, ain't we? That's gotta mean something."

Howard shook his head fondly. "Oh, it does, little man. It does."

xxxxxxx

"And remember then, you fell off the table –!"

"I fell off cos you grabbed my legs!"

"I didn't know what I was doin'! I was off me 'ead, so were you! Otherwise you'd never 'ave been dancing up there in the first place!"

"I know!"

"God, and d'you remember that time I kicked the door in your face?"

"That hurt!"

"Oh God, I didn't mean to do it! I was just havin' a fit and you were there and I kicked it and it just went, in ya face!"

"That wasn't what it looked like at the time!"

"It was! I didn't do it on purpose, 'spite of what you thought..."

"Hmm," Julian said, and took another drink.

Noel chuckled to himself, running his hand over his head.

"D'you think I should go look for Vince?" he said, after a moment.

Julian sighed. "Still thinking about him?"

"Yeah." Noel looked rather wistful.

Julian swallowed. He wanted to distract Noel from all this, just for a while longer...

And, if he was totally honest (not something he was very good at being recently), he didn't want this time to end. They'd been talking. Talking like friends. Reminiscing. But now he couldn't remember anything else to talk about.

"This song," he said eventually, vaguely indicating the speakers which were now, for some reason, blasting 'Fergalicious', "Makes me want to shoot people."

"I know!" Noel was instantly distracted. "I's a pile of crap! What's with singin' about how hot you are? Who does that?"

Julian looked at him.

"What?"

"You know, it almost sounds like the kind of thing you'd do."

"Oh, fuck off," Noel laughed.

"No, I reckon you should release a cover. 'Noel-licious.' Could be good."

"I bet it would be," Noel said. "I bet everyone would buy it."

"Sad thing is they probably would," Julian said.

"You could do the rap bits," Noel said, grinning.

"I'm a good rapper! You've heard me on the show!"

Noel laughed again.

It had been a long time since Julian had heard Noel laugh so much.

He glanced up. A short figure in a large hat was standing by the door. It could be Bollo, but he wasn't sure.

But, as he watched, Naboo appeared, with Alexandra behind him.

"Oh, they've come back, have they?" he said.

"What?" Noel looked. "Oh, them! Where did they go?"

"God knows," Julian said.

"Well," Noel said. "I guess I'd better go find Vince..."

"Yeah, you'd better..."

Noel smiled. "Thanks for buyin' me the drink, anyway."

"What are you, my date?"

"In your dreams." Noel grinned.

They looked at each other for a few moments.

Then Noel sighed, and turned away.

"Noel?"

Noel spun back round. "What?"

He gazed at Julian, blinking at him with those big blue eyes. The big blue eyes Julian had looked into so many, many times over the past ten years, so many times that he'd come to know every single fleck of colour in them, as though they were his own.

But still he didn't know what it was like to look out of those eyes, or what was behind them.

Noel was saying nothing.

And Noel, Noel looked at the older man, who was by turns a younger version of a father, the older brother he never had, and the strong, steady person he knew he would never, ever be.

And he had no idea what to say. Or how to say it. How to say, why are we talking like this? Why are we trying to act like we can make it work? Are we still ending it? _What's going on?_

In his head, a voice, like an old friend, seemed to warn: "And it breaks my heart, that we live this way..."

"Julian?"

"What?"

_I'm sorry. I want it to be like that all the time._

_I miss you._

"It's eleven o'clock tomorrow, isn't it?"

Julian felt a strange jerk in his chest.

"Yeah. Yeah, it is."

Between them, for a few seconds, they seemed to see themselves older, much older, always looking over their shoulders for the other person who should be behind them; always waking up in the middle of the night grasping at dreams of an alternative future that they lost; always asking, "What if I'd tried a bit harder? What if I hadn't let him walk away from me in that bar? What if I hadn't walked away? What if? Oh, what if?" And never knowing.

"Noel?"

"What?"

"Nothing."

Noel nodded. He tried to smile, but somehow didn't manage it.

He turned again. Julian watched every step he took, further and further away.

They'd never know.

xxxxxxx

"Vince!"

Vince, back in his usual routine of waking up later than Howard, groaned softly. "Uhhh... what?"

"Vince, wake up!"

"Wasamatter?" Vince's head ached from the drinking and dancing last night. He could hardly even tell who was speaking to him.

"Vince!"

Howard. And he sounded panicked.

"What?" Vince struggled and managed to open his eyes.

"They've gone! Noel and Julian, they've gone –"

"_What?_" Vince was suddenly awake. Howard was standing over him, eyes wide. Alexandra was behind him. Naboo was in the corner of the room, with Bollo.

"What d'you mean, they've gone? To _cancel_? But – last night –"

"I woke up," Alexandra said. "I heard people moving around. I went into the main room and they were leaving. I asked what they were doing and they said it was time to go and sign the contracts..."

"No!" Vince squealed, leaping up. "But – but – I thought, last night –"

"So did we all! Oh, quick, Vince, get up! We've got to go after them!"

"No," said a voice.

Everyone turned.

It was Naboo who had spoken.

"No?" Howard repeated.

Naboo was shaking his head sadly. "We won't be able to stop them."

"What's wrong with you?" Howard yelled. "We'll die if we don't stop them, you said so yourself!"

"Yeah, you've gone wrong!" Vince squeaked, grabbing his jeans from the floor. "We could stop 'em, anyway; we could rugby-tackle 'em so they couldn't sign; you could do magic and Bollo could jump 'em and Alexandra could do tae kwon do and Howard could come at 'em like a buzzard or whatever and I – well, I could stand lookin' pretty and maybe then –"

"No," said Naboo.

"Naboo, what are you saying?" Alexandra asked. She went over to him and took his hand. "Why can't we go after them?"

Naboo gazed at her – for only a few moments, until her eyes got too much, and he turned away and walked out of the room.

The others hurried after him. "Naboo, I don't understand! You said we could stop them cancelling it!" Alexandra protested.

"I don't want to die!" Vince said.

Naboo turned at that. "I don't really want to die either, Vince, but you don't understand. That isn't how it works. They created our world. They own us. If they've made the decision to wipe it out, we can't do anything. We've tried to convince them and now... now it's up to them. And they've decided."

"I still don't understand!" Howard said. "Why can't we persuade them not to cancel?"

"We've _tried_, Howard!" Naboo's face was strained. The others could tell this was hurting him. "But we can't do anything! We're not in our world! They own our world! It's not for us to say when it gets created or when it gets destroyed! At the end of the day the decision is theirs! We've tried, but it's obvious they're completely clear about what they want to do and now we can't do anything else! Okay?" He covered his eyes with his hands and turned away.

After a few seconds, Alexandra went over and put her arms round him from behind.

"Don't –" Naboo started.

"I don't want to lose you," Alexandra mumbled, leaning her head on his shoulder. She glanced round at the others. "I don't want to lose any of you guys."

"You won't," said Naboo. "They'll still be here. Noel and Julian. And the others, the others you told me about, who are in the programme."

"But they're not _you_," Alexandra said.

"But –" Howard started.

"They're not you," Alexandra insisted. "You guys are different. You're like different people. And I like you a lot more than I like them, to be honest. And I don't want –" She swallowed. "I don't want you to die."

Naboo turned round and took her hand. Alexandra bit her lip. He reached up and touched her face. "It'll be okay."

Alexandra nodded, but everyone knew Naboo was really just trying to comfort her.

"So we just... wait, do we?" Howard asked hollowly.

Naboo nodded, gulping hard. Alexandra was still gripping his hand.

To give them a bit of privacy, Howard turned away and sat down on the sofa. After a few moments, Vince joined him. "Howard?" he asked tentatively.

"Yes, little man?"

"Is it... is it gonna be okay?"

"No," said Howard. "It's not. We're going to die in the most appalling way possible."

Vince snuffled a bit. "Still," he said. "We had some good times, right?"

Howard softened. He smiled at Vince. "Yeah, little man. Good times."

Vince gave him his pretty grin back. Howard marvelled how, even in the face of certain death, Vince could be so cheerful. He supposed this was partly why he liked having Vince as a friend.

"I'm really glad, Howard," Vince said, after a few moments, "That we didn't get like them."

"Oh, Vince," Howard said, genuinely touched. He put his arm round the younger man and pulled him close. "So am I. So am I."

Vince snuggled against Howard's chest, and Howard leant his head on the top of Vince's. They sat in silence for a few moments.

Then: "What 'ave you got in your pocket?"

"What?" Howard asked.

"There's somethin' in ya pocket... what is it?" Vince felt inside Howard's jacket, and pulled out a bunch of photographs. "What are...?"

"Oh!" Howard remembered. "They're Julian's."

"What you got Julian's photos for?" Vince asked. He turned the pictures over. "Howard, look!"

"What?"

"It's them! It's Julian and Noel! This must've been before they..." Vince swallowed. He held up one of the photographs. "Look how much younger they look!"

Howard didn't really want to talk about Noel and Julian. "Mmm," he mumbled.

Vince was still looking at the photos. "They look so happy," he said, rather wistfully, looking at a picture of Noel and Julian by some kind of canal with their arms round each other. He flipped over a few more, looking at Noel and Julian at some sort of club together, sitting on a sofa together, dressed up in police uniforms, again with their arms round each other...

"Where d'you get these, Howard?" Vince asked eventually.

"The night we were at Julian's house, they were on his sofa," Howard said. "And when Noel arrived he just kind of threw them at me and told me to hide them – I didn't even look at them – I didn't know where to put them so I just stuck them in my jacket."

Vince nodded. Then he frowned. "He told you to hide 'em?"

"Yeah."

Vince screwed up his face.

"Vince? Are you okay?" Howard asked, alarmed, in case this was part of being erased from existence. Naboo and Alexandra spun round. "What?" Alexandra asked fearfully.

"No, wait –!" Vince held up his hand. He clutched his forehead.

"What is it?" Bollo asked, gathering himself up, the way he always did when Vince might be in danger.

"Julian was hiding photos of him and Noel –" Vince said.

"What?" Howard asked.

"And – and Noel had that picture – of him and Julian – I picked it up and – he grabbed it off me so no-one would see, when Julian came in the room –"

"What?" Naboo asked.

"They're both lookin' at photos of each other – and hidin' it from each other –"

"What?" Alexandra asked.

Vince's eyes snapped open. He leapt up. "They don't want to end it!"

"I think they do," Howard said.

"No! Don't you see? They both still want to do it, that's why they're both lookin' at photos of each other, but they can't tell each other! They don't want to end it!"

"Oh my God!" Howard jumped up too.

Naboo's eyes widened. "I think – I think he's right!"

"Precious Vince is right!" Bollo thundered.

"And if Vince is right, we can still try and stop it!" Naboo cried. "If they don't really want to end it all, we still have some control!"

"Vince, you're a genius!" Howard cried, picking Vince up and swinging him round.

"First time for everything, like I said," Bollo said, as it was definitely the first time anyone had called Vince a genius.

"Okay!" Naboo pulled out his folding carpet. "We'll go to the studio, and – no! Wait! We need the book!"

"Why now?" Alexandra asked.

"It might be erased! Objects will get erased first! We need it before it gets wiped out! And I'll need it in case I have to do any magic to stop 'em!"

"How are you going to find it?" Howard asked.

"I'll go inside Mike's head again," Naboo said.

"But there's no time! The contracts!" Alexandra cried.

"Okay, okay," gabbled Naboo, thinking quickly, "We'll drop Howard and Vince outside the studio and we'll get the book! The carpet goes fast! We can get back on time but Howard and Vince will need to stop them actually signing the contract, then we can persuade 'em..."

"Well, let's go!" Howard shouted.

Naboo threw the box out of the window and a moment later, with a rushing sound, it expanded into a carpet. "Quick!" Naboo ushered everyone out of the window, first Bollo; then Vince, who Bollo hauled onto the carpet; then Howard, fears of flying forgotten. Naboo held out his hand to help Alexandra. She smiled at him and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before scrambling up to join the others.

There was no time to consider that. Naboo struggled out of the window after her. "Right!" he told the carpet, settling himself at the front. "The BBC Three studios! And hurry!"

And they soared off into the air.

* * *

**I have almost finished the next chapter so get reviewing and I'll get typing and we'll all be happy!**

**Thanks for reading.**

**violence (who really would like it violent and playing rough and tumble, thank you, Chris)**

**xx**


	16. We've got out of everything before

**Dearest Boosh fanfiction family and everyone else reading this,  
Please don't think I hate you.  
Please don't think I hate the Boosh.  
Please don't hate me!!**

**Mighty Boosh belongs to Julian Barratt and Noel Fielding, all "real life" characters belong to themselves, Alexandra is mine, now let's go!**

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen**

_**"We've got out of everything before, ain't we?"**_

Noel and Julian didn't look at each other as they drove to the studio. They didn't look at each other as they went inside.

Perhaps they were both wondering, why are we doing this? Why now? Why? _Why?_

Perhaps they had always been wondering that.

But then again, perhaps not.

They went up in the lift.

They entered the room a double.

When they left, they both knew, even if they went together, they wouldn't be _together._ They would never be _together_ again.

A man, smiling slightly sympathetically, pushed some papers across a desk towards them.

Noel glanced at Julian for the first time. The older man's face looked strained.

"Alright –?" Noel started to ask – almost hoping to be told that no, Julian wasn't all right, he didn't want to do it...

Julian nodded. He spoke before Noel had properly finished. "Let's get this over with, shall we?"

xxxxxxx

The wind roared around the travellers on the carpet as they shot over the streets of London.

"God, Naboo, I never knew this could go so fast!" Vince screamed. He had to scream, because otherwise his voice would have been whipped away by the wind.

"It's on turbo!" Naboo yelled back. "Only used in emergencies!"

Bollo grunted something. He had his furry arms wrapped round Vince to make sure the small man didn't fall, or get blown away.

Howard wasn't saying anything. His face had gone green.

Vince, noticing this, reached out and gripped his friend's arm. He didn't say anything. When Howard managed to look up at him, Vince was looking straight ahead, his hair blown backwards by the rushing air, apparently not caring that his style would be messed up. But somehow, knowing Vince was there made Howard feel a bit better.

"I'm going to go into Mike!" Naboo hollered.

"No!" Howard found his voice. "You're driving!"

"Alexandra!" Naboo shouted, ignoring Howard. "I need you to drive!"

"But I –" Then Alexandra broke off. "Yes. All right. I'll do it."

Naboo nodded, and then sat back a bit and closed his eyes. Alexandra moved nervously to the front of the carpet and took hold on the edge.

Naboo, inside his mind, reached out. Reached out for a connection... something... anything...

"That way!" he suddenly screamed, arm flying out to point to where he wanted them to go.

"What?" Alexandra cried, only just managing to avoid being whacked in the face by his hand.

"That way – go that way –" Naboo was shaking, not totally out of his trance.

"But – but that's the opposite direction!" Alexandra shouted.

"Put us down!" Vince said suddenly.

"What?" Howard asked.

"Put us down, we'll run!"

"We can't!" Howard cried – but Naboo was nodding.

"Yes," he said. "Yes. Run. It's straight on all the way."

The carpet stopped, so suddenly that it was quite lucky someone didn't get tossed off. It sank quickly to the ground, and Vince hopped onto the pavement, dragging Howard with him.

"We'll be as quick as we can," Alexandra told them, as the carpet started to rise. "Now, run!"

The carpet shot back into the air, and Naboo closed his eyes again. His arm jerked, and Alexandra, pulling on the front of the rug, managed to manoeuvre it round – and off they sped again.

Naboo directed them, arms shooting out like rockets, and Alexandra managed, rather jerkily, to steer them along. Bollo was at the back, clinging on for dear life. "When this over, Bollo need serious counselling," he groaned to himself.

"There!" Naboo suddenly shouted, and Alexandra hauled on the carpet, and it suddenly flew downwards, downwards, all three riders screaming as it shot towards a window – "Pull up! We crash!" Bollo shouted.

"I can't!" Alexandra shrieked, tugging frantically on the front of the rug. "Naboo! Naboo –!"

Naboo took her arm, as though to tell her everything would be okay – and, a moment later, the window burst open of its own accord, and the carpet flew through it and landed with such a bump in the room beyond that Naboo, Alexandra and Bollo were all thrown off.

The person in the room yelped, and leapt up as the strange object shot through his window and deposited its passengers unceremoniously on the floor.

For a few seconds, Naboo, Alexandra and Bollo lay groaning. Then, Alexandra remembered that they had very limited time, and sat up. "Are you two all right?"

"Yeah, fine," said Naboo, sitting up too, straightening his turban.

"No," grumbled Bollo, but he sat up too.

"Right," said Alexandra. "Is this where we'll find Mike?"

"Should be," said Naboo. "Unless I'm wrong about the directions, and I never am."

"Except for that time we tried to get to the Crunch," Bollo said. "Wanted to see what all the fuss was about. But Naboo took us to pizza takeaway instead."

"Shut up, Bollo!" Naboo snapped.

Alexandra couldn't help laughing, even though the situation they were in was so serious.

Then, she noticed something. Or rather, someone.

A small man, backed into the corner, staring at them with very wide eyes.

She clutched Naboo. Naboo turned, and spotted the man too.

"Mike?" he said, getting up.

The man drew in his breath sharply, pressed himself harder back into the corner.

"Naboo..." Alexandra said, seeing he was clearly terrified. "Maybe we should... go gently?"

"Okay," Naboo muttered, "But we need to _hurry_."

Alexandra nodded, and took a step forward. She couldn't help marvelling how calm Naboo stayed, even in the face of all of this. But there was no time to think about that now. She turned to the man in the corner. "Are you Mike Fielding?" she asked.

"Who are you?" said the man – it was definitely Mike; Alexandra recognised his voice, just like Naboo's. "What do you want?"

"We want our book!" Bollo grunted.

"Bollo!" said Naboo.

"Sorry about him." Alexandra turned back to Mike. "Look, I'm Alexandra –"

"Who are they?" Mike pointed at Naboo and Bollo with a trembling finger. "Is this a joke?"

"No, it's not a joke. I know this is – well – weird – but this is Naboo, and Bollo."

"No, it's not!" Mike was shaking his head. "They don't exist!"

"You've seen them before," Alexandra said.

"No! I haven't!" He was still shaking his head.

"At that house!" Bollo said. "You took our book!"

"Bollo!" Naboo shouted.

The man was still shaking his head. "I didn't – everyone said – no, no; I didn't!"

"Please," Alexandra said, "I know this is really – unexpected – but we need your help. You've got Naboo's spell book."

"I 'aven't got any spell book!"

"Please," Alexandra begged. "Look, your brother –"

The man's eyes suddenly widened.

"What 'ave you done with 'im?" he gasped.

"We haven't done anything with him," Alexandra said. "What do you –?"

"Well, where is he?" Mike suddenly shouted. "We don't 'ear from him in almost a week; then he shows up at the Royal Albert Hall and acts like he's gone mad, and then he disappears again – what have you done?"

"That wasn't him at the Royal Albert Hall," Naboo said. "That was Vince."

"Vince –" Mike staggered slightly. "Are you – are you all here?"

"Yes," Naboo said. "Me, Bollo, Vince and Howard."

"Look," Alexandra said, "We really need you to help us. Noel and Julian are going to cancel the show –"

"I know!"

"– But if that happens, Naboo and Bollo, and Vince and Howard, will all die."

Mike looked shocked for a moment.

Then he said, "They don't exist."

"Look at them!" Alexandra cried, voice rising in spite of herself. "Naboo and Bollo are right in front of you! They exist, you can see they exist, and they'll die if we let Noel and Julian cancel the show –"

Mike seemed to be struggling.

"What can I do, anyway?" he yelled finally. "They've made up their minds –"

"But they haven't!" Alexandra rushed forward. "They haven't! We know they haven't! They both want to keep going, but they can't tell each other! We've spent time with them and we can see it! And photos! They've been keeping photos of each other, and not telling each other –"

Mike was staring at her as though she was mad. For a few horrible moments, Alexandra thought it hadn't worked.

But then, he said, slowly, "I know."

"What?" Alexandra gasped.

"Noel told me," Mike said, "That he doesn't want to cancel."

"He told you?"

"Yeah. He was pissed – he's been doin' that a lot recently, getting pissed – and I don't think he remembers, but he did. He said he wished they could go back to 'ow they used to be."

Alexandra gasped, and then threw her arms round Mike.

Mike stiffened in alarm.

"Sorry!" Alexandra hastily let him go. "Sorry! I'm just so – oh, but you have to help us! We need the book, the book you got from Naboo."

Mike hesitated. "You don't..."

"Look." Naboo stepped forwards now. "I don't know how we exist, but we're here. We're in front of you, and we need the book, because objects disappear before people, and if we're going to get home, we'll need it." He looked Mike right in the eye. "We need the book."

Mike swallowed. "Okay," he said softly. He rushed out of the room, and came back a moment later, holding the large volume in his arms.

"Finally!" Bollo grunted.

"Bollo!" Naboo yelled.

Mike held the book out to them. Alexandra took it and went to pass it to Naboo, but he shook his head. "No. Let Mike hold it. Keep it in the real world. It's less likely to disappear that way."

Alexandra passed the book back to Mike.

"Now we need to go help Howard and Vince," Naboo said.

"Where are they?" Mike asked.

"At the BBC Three studios, we hope," Alexandra said, as Naboo and Bollo gathered up the carpet. "Stopping Noel and Julian signing the contracts."

"Does this – does this mean I have to go with you?" Mike asked nervously.

"I'm afraid so."

"On –" Mike was staring at the carpet. "On _that_?"

"Don't worry," Alexandra told him. "It's perfectly safe."

A few moments later, they soared into the skies again, Naboo once more sitting cross-legged in his usual place at the front of the carpet, and Bollo at the back. Alexandra and Mike sat between them.

Mike's face was rather pale. "I thought you said this was safe!" he yelled at Alexandra, as they weaved in between a few chimneys.

"You get used to it!" she shouted back.

Mike didn't look as though he thought this would happen, and Alexandra wished she could offer some comfort, but he was holding the book, and that was all that mattered at the moment. Now they just had to get to Howard and Vince...

xxxxxxx

As soon as the carpet rose into the air, Vince turned to his friend.

"Run, Howard!"

And they ran.

They ran for their lives, literally – sprinting down the street, Vince's heeled boots thumping on the pavement. He staggered slightly once, and Howard seized his arm. Vince gave Howard a quick smile and they went on running, hanging onto each other, as fast as they could.

"Where is it?" Howard moaned.

"There!" Vince suddenly cried, pointing.

A large building loomed. Words over the door proclaimed "BBC Three Studios".

"Helpful," Howard said, nodding to the sign.

"Come on!" Vince squeaked. "I've ruined me hair for this, I'd better at least get _something_ out of the whole mess!" And he dragged Howard towards the door.

Two security guards hurried up as they saw the approaching men.

"Hold on a minute! Do you have a pass?" one of them asked.

"We need – to get in –" Howard panted.

"Where's your ID?" the other guard asked.

"Um –" Howard began, but Vince leapt forwards.

"Do I look like I need a pass? Do I look like I need ID?" he asked, jabbing a finger at his face.

The security guards blinked.

Then: "Sorry," one of them said.

"Yeah, we didn't realise it was you..."

One the guards stepped forward, taking off his hat and attempting a smile, but Vince wasn't having any. "Yeah, well," he snapped. "Just don't let it happen again, 'kay?" And he hauled a rather stunned Howard inside.

"Don't remember him being such a bastard before," one of the security guards muttered. He glanced at the other one, who was staring after the Vince. "Gary? Gary! For God's sake, what have I told you? You've got a wife and kids. You've got to stop checking out Noel Fielding; I know he looks like a woman but..."

Inside, Howard and Vince found themselves in the lobby of the building

"Where do we go now?" Howard hissed.

"Don't worry, I'll sort it." Vince marched up to the reception desk. A woman was sorting papers – but she stopped and smiled, tossing her hair a little, as Vince approached. Evidently another person who watched Noel from afar. "Hi," she smiled.

"Yeah, hey," Vince said.

"Third floor?" the woman asked.

"Oh. Yes." Vince tried to look professional. "And, sorry, where –?"

"Second on the right." The woman didn't seem to find the question weird, so maybe Noel and Julian hadn't actually been told where they'd be signing the contracts, either.

Vince flashed her a smile as a reward for her help, and then hurried over to Howard, who had called the elevator.

"Second on the right, floor three," he muttered.

"Right," Howard said. He tapped the wall. "Come on, come on..."

The elevator made a beeping sound, and the doors slid open.

Howard and Vince got in and Howard pressed the "3" button. The doors slid shut and the mechanics whirred.

"How are you feelin'?" Vince said.

"What?"

"Any signs of bein' erased?"

"Oh, no... you?"

"Nah."

"Good." Howard was shifting from one leg to the other.

"C'mon," Vince said. "We can do this. We've got out of everything before, ain't we?"

Howard wondered if it might be different this time, because all the other times they'd been in danger the show wasn't supposed to end, so they couldn't die – but this time the show was supposed to end.

But then the doors slid open.

"Come on!" Vince squeaked – and Howard shot out of the doors, overtaking his friend, who had tripped slightly in his heels. "Vince!"

"Run, it's okay!" Vince cried, righting himself.

Howard turned and sprinted down the corridor, Vince just behind him...

xxxxxxx

Noel picked up the pen and bent over the contracts. "Where do I sign?"

"There." Someone pointed.

Noel looked up at Julian, one last time. Julian's face was set. It was impossible to tell what he was feeling.

And he wasn't looking at Noel.

Noel took a deep breath.

No going back now. No chance to stop. This was it.

The end.

"Wait!" a voice shouted. The door flew open – and crashing through it came Howard, hair wild, face red from running, jacket hanging open. He staggered forwards, nearly knocking over one of the secretaries. "Howard!" Julian cried, as audible gasps echoed round the room at the sight of a man who looked just the same as him.

"Wait!" Howard shouted again. "Wait! You can't!"

A second later, there was another clatter by the door, and Vince skidded up, almost crashing into the wall in his haste. "Don't!" he shrieked.

"Vince!" Noel jumped up, dropping the pen he'd just finished signing with.

"Don't –" But suddenly, Vince broke off.

He froze.

"Vince?" Noel asked.

Vince swayed slightly on the spot, staring at Noel.

Suddenly, he made a choking sound.

"Vince?" Howard repeated.

Vince's hand flew to his neck. He rasped again. It sounded like all the air was being dragged out of him.

"Vince? What's wrong?" Howard cried.

"What's the matter with him?" Julian asked.

"I don't know! Vince –?"

Vince scrabbled at his chest. Another agonised choke. He gasped for air – and then he suddenly keeled over.

Noel rushed round the desk and caught him, letting Vince fall back against his shoulder. He staggered, nearly losing his balance. He let Vince sink gently to the floor and bent over him. "Vince – Vince!"

"Noel..." Vince gasped. Talking seemed painful for him.

Howard dashed over and elbowed Noel out of the way. "Move! He needs me!" He leant over Vince. "Vince! Vince, what's wrong?"

Vince tried to suck in air to talk again, but then couldn't. He just rasped. His body was shaking.

"What's going on?" someone asked.

Noel leapt up and rounded on the BBC representatives. "Fuck, call an ambulance!"

One of the secretaries rushed from the room for a phone.

Howard was looking down at Vince, visibly trembling himself. "Vince? Vince!"

Vince still couldn't answer.

Suddenly, there was a crashing noise outside. The window flew open and in leapt Naboo, Bollo and Alexandra, and a very dazed-looking Mike, still clutching the spell book, from the magic carpet outside.

There were cries of alarm and astonishment from the BBC representatives, and one man said, "Call the police!"

"No!" Julian shouted.

"Mike!" Noel cried, staring at his brother.

"Noel –? Noel! They say –"

"Howard! Vince! We got the book!" Bollo interrupted, snatching it out of Mike's arms, almost knocking the small man over.

Alexandra was the first to spot Howard clutching Vince on the floor. "What's going on?" she asked. "Why –?"

"Naboo!" Howard yelped. "He just collapsed –"

"Precious Vince!" Bollo went to run forwards but Alexandra held him back.

"Naboo!" she cried. "Bollo, let Naboo help him – Naboo!"

But Naboo was just staring. Staring at the desk, where the contracts had been left. "Did someone sign it?" he asked, voice soft with fear.

"Is that the contracts?" Mike asked. "The ones for cancellin' the show?"

"What?" Howard was yelling.

"Did someone sign it?" Naboo asked again, voice louder, more urgent, now.

Julian looked at Noel.

"Um, yeah…" Noel started.

"Oh my God," Naboo said.

"What?" Howard's voice rose. He was supporting Vince's head against his arm. The smaller man was slumped, body heaving as he tried to breathe.

But Naboo was still just staring.

"You've broken the link," he said.

Noel's large eyes widened even more, and he turned back to stare at Vince.

"What?" Howard screamed. "Speak English, you dwarf! What does that mean? What's wrong with him –?"

"Howard…"

Vince's voice was little more than a whisper, but somehow, he reduced the entire room to silence. Everyone froze.

"Vince!" Howard turned back to his friend, lifting him closer, cradling Vince in his arms. "Vince…"

"Can't – can't breathe –" Vince's voice was so quiet Howard had to lean towards him to hear it.

"Okay, okay," Howard said, gently pushing Vince's hair back off his face where it had stuck. His friend's face was damp with cold sweat. "They're getting an ambulance…" Howard said. "It's okay…"

Vince let out a few shallow gasps.

"Oh, Vince," Howard mumbled. He could his friend's lips were turning blue, his skin somehow even paler than usual. "You'll be okay… I won't let anything happen to you…"

Vince managed to suck in some air and smiled shakily at Howard – but then coughs overtook him again and he fell sideways, gasping and retching.

"Oh God," Howard moaned, as Vince's spine dug into his stomach. He could feel Vince's tiny, weak body vibrating against him as he struggled to breathe. "Naboo!" Howard yelled again, close to tears.

The shaman stood totally still.

"Naboo, do something!"

Everyone looked at the shaman. For a moment it seemed he wasn't going to answer, and the room was filled only with the sounds of Vince struggling to breathe. But then, finally: "There's nothing I can do."

"What –?"

"The link's been broken," Naboo said, his voice strangled.

"What the hell does that _mean_?" Howard shouted.

"Yeah, what?" growled Bollo, who was still being restrained by Alexandra.

"He's not –" Naboo swallowed. "He's not being supported any more."

Noel swayed on the spot. Julian reached out and steadied him. Noel's face was almost as white as his alter ego's.

"Does that mean –?" Mike started to ask, and then broke off, unable to finish.

"Howard…" Vince croaked, from Howard's arms, finding it difficult to talk from lack of air and so much coughing.

Howard instantly turned back to him, hastily blinking. He didn't want Vince to see he was upset and get frightened. "Yes, yes… I'm here…"

"Howard – I can't – can't – breathe –" Vince broke off into a few more coughs, and then looked back at Howard, with so much effort it almost seemed agonising.

"Can't we do something for him?" Alexandra asked, reaching over to clutch Naboo's arm.

Naboo was looking as though the world was coming to an end. "He's not being supported any more… the contract's been terminated. He needs – he needs someone to stay being him if he's going to stay alive, and now –" He broke off momentarily. "Now no-one is."

"I'll wipe it out!" Noel shouted, rushing for the contracts. "I take it back! I didn't mean it!" He seized the papers. "Get me some Tipex – something! I didn't mean it –"

"You've done it already." Naboo's voice squeaked slightly as his throat constricted. "You can't just take it back. You've cancelled him."

Mike gasped. Alexandra put her hands over her mouth. Bollo made a faint whimpering noise.

Noel froze, holding the papers aloft. He started trembling. Julian rushed to support him again.

Howard was staring up at them , shaking his head – but he was distracted by Vince reaching up and touching his face.

"Howard –" He paused, and swallowed. "Don't – don't cry –"

"I'm not crying, Vince," Howard said determinedly.

"We had – good times –" Vince mumbled.

"What?"

"We did – we had good – good times –"

"Vince, don't." Howard's throat constricted. "Don't talk like that. You'll be okay. The ambulance… the ambulance…" His voice broke and he pulled Vince against him, hugging him close. He let a few tears escape while Vince couldn't see.

"Howard –"

The voice against his shoulder sounded even weaker now.

"Yes – yes?"

"I did hear Naboo…"

"No!" Howard tried to shout, but his voice got cut off by a sob and so it came out as a kind of cracking gulp. He looked up wildly. "Naboo! Naboo –!"

Alexandra let out a shuddering gasp.

Julian could feel Noel shaking against him. He held the smaller man tighter. Noel clutched his arm as though he wasn't quite sure anything was real anymore.

"Howard…" Vince put his hand up to touch his friend's face.

"Vince – oh, Vince –"

Vince managed a smile, even though he seemed to be in extreme pain. "Thanks. For – being – there." The words were little more than breaths. "Tell – tell Noel –" He sighed. "I dunno – Howard –"

"Yes?" Howard gasped.

"I love ya…"

Then his head fell back.

The silence was totally enveloping, after the sound of Vince gasping, but also totally cold.

Total, total silence.

Silence.

"Vince?" Howard finally spoke.

Gently, he lifted Vince's head up. Vince's eyes had slumped shut, his dark lashes long against his cheeks, his face white. As though he was sleeping…

"Vince? Vince!" Howard cried, shaking him.

No response.

"Oh my God," Alexandra gasped, her voice a trembling sob, unable to control herself.

"Precious Vince…" groaned Bollo.

"Vince!" Howard shook Vince harder. "Vince, wake up!" His voice started to get thick with tears. "You can't do this to me! You can't leave me – we're two halves of a complete person, remember? Vince –" He grabbed Vince's hand and held it up to his face. Then he let it go.

Vince's arm immediately slumped, lifelessly, back to the floor.

"No," Howard whispered, shaking his head. "No – oh God, no – no –"

Alexandra was shaking as she fought to control herself. Bollo clutched her, his eyes welling up too. Naboo didn't move. He was just looking at the jazz maverick on the floor, holding the mod in his arms. He hardly seemed to be seeing them any more.

Howard clutched Vince against him. "Vince – Vince– oh God, Vince –" He buried his face in Vince's hair – hair that he would never normally have been allowed to touch – sobbed once – and then suddenly howled. Howled into Vince's hair, clutching the younger man against him as though his life depended on it and as though the whole world would stop turning without him...

Everybody twisted away from the sound as though they could feel all the agony behind it. The BBC representatives were just gazing in horror at the scene, some holding onto each other, some standing alone, all unable to remove their eyes from what was in front of them. Alexandra sobbed harder; Bollo was by now in tears; Mike clutched the wall behind him. Naboo's face was crumpling.

"_No!_" Howard was screaming now, rocking Vince backwards and forwards, clutching Vince's head against his chest. "No – _no! Vince! VINCE!_"

And Noel and Julian – they stood staring, almost frozen, Julian still supporting Noel, staring, staring…

* * *

**I'm so sorry!**

**I don't know where it comes from, I just don't!**

**I do love you all! Loads! Please don't not love me!**

**violence (practically in tears at her own cruelty) xxxx**


	17. Made To Be With Him

**I'm so awfully sorry for leaving you lot hanging like that! I went back to school, and then, yeah, I've been busy. Bloody school. I hate it.**

**Anyway, I did originally plan for this update to be longer, but it's not for two reasons:  
1. I thought that it had reached a good stopping point, and I thought that splitting the events worked better.  
2. I am actually going away on Tuesday, to America. I know, another trip! This time it's not a holiday, I'm going to look round colleges because I've been offered two university places down there. Anyway, I'm going Tuesday and will return on Friday, but I've got loads of work to catch up so I didn't have time to write. But I didn't want to leave you hanging that long so I thought I'd put this up.**

**Disclaimers:  
Mighty Boosh and characters belong to Noel Fielding and Julian Barratt.  
All "real life" characters belong to themselves.  
The lyrics used belong to Chris Corner. (Spit It Out again)  
**

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen**

**_"You know I can't be without him! I was made to be with him!"_**

Finally, Howard stopped screaming and rocking backwards and forwards. He seemed to lose the will to move at all. He slumped, Vince over his lap.

Vince's hair spread out delicately around his head, like a black halo. His skin looked flawless. He was totally still, like a statute made out of ice.

Howard reached out a trembling finger and stroked his friend's razor-sharp cheek bone.

Then he buried his face in his hands.

For a few minutes, there was silence, broken only occasionally by sobs from Howard, or from Alexandra, or Bollo.

Naboo made no sound. But tears on his face glinted in the light.

Mike had his hands half over his eyes, as though he almost couldn't bear to look any more.

The BBC representatives all seemed too stunned, and shocked, to move.

Julian continued supporting Noel.

He could feel Noel was still shaking, and he held the younger man tighter, afraid he might collapse.

And then, Howard looked up, and his brown eyes met Noel's blue ones.

"You did it," he said.

The sound was almost alarming after so much quiet.

Noel gave a seemingly involuntary jerk against Julian's arms.

"You did it!" Howard was suddenly shouting, a painful shouting from still being half in tears – and he was off the floor, abandoning Vince; he charged across the room, shoving Naboo aside, and threw himself at Noel, seizing his shirt and slamming him down on the desk – "You did it!" – Howard hauled Noel up and slammed him down again. Noel yelped. "You did it!" Howard was screaming. "You did it – you killed him –"

"Get off!" Julian seized Howard's shirt and tried to drag him away from Noel, but Howard rounded on him, suddenly seeming a lot bigger than Julian, despite the fact that they were the same person. "Let go of me!"

"Look –" Julian backed away, holding up his hands to show he wasn't going to touch Howard. "Look, just calm down –"

"What if it was him lying there?" Howard roared.

Bollo, clinging to Alexandra, let out a growling whimper.

"What?" Julian said.

"What if it was him lying there?" Howard thrust a finger violently at Noel, who was still half on and half off the desk, almost getting him in the eye. "What if it was him lying on the floor and I was telling you to calm down?"

"Howard –"

"Are you going to say you wouldn't care?" Howard's voice was into shrieking levels, making everyone wince. "Don't lie! Don't lie!"

"Howard, what –?"

Howard reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and tore out a bundle of papers. He threw them at Julian. "These photos, the ones you were hiding from him –" Another jab of the finger at Noel "– Don't try to tell me you wouldn't care! Don't tell me you wouldn't care because I am you and I know!" His legs suddenly gave way, and he collapsed onto the floor.

Noel, on the desk, was trembling violently. Mike moved, as though thinking to go to him, but then somehow couldn't. Julian just stood there. He reached up and put a hand to his forehead, hard, as though he was hoping he might smack himself awake and it would all be a dream. The photographs were scattered around his feet, but he didn't move to pick them up.

Alexandra and Bollo rocked each other, whimpering.

Naboo, who had managed to right himself after almost being knocked over by Howard, hesitated, and then crept across over to where Howard was kneeling. He reached out and put a hand on Howard's shoulder.

Howard jumped at the contact.

"Howard," Naboo said, "Look –"

"You didn't do anything!" Howard shouted. "Why didn't you do anything?"

Naboo's eyes filled up again at that. "Howard, I –" he started, but Howard wasn't listening. He slammed his fists against the floor, moaning, swaying backwards and forwards like a wounded animal.

On the desk, Noel moved.

He slipped off the wooden surface, round Howard and Naboo. He went over where Vince was lying on the floor, the only part of the room that was peaceful, and cold.

He could still almost have been asleep, except that his lips were now white and blood-less.

_Vince put his hands behind Noel's head and he started kissing him again, properly, one kiss, another, down over his jaw, another kiss on his mouth…_

_Cos it breaks my heart, that we live this way..._

Noel suddenly made a gasping noise and dropped onto the floor next to Vince. He reached out a trembling finger, two fingers, towards Vince's face – but then snatched them back, and just sat instead, staring, as though he too couldn't move without Vince there.

"Get away from him," Howard groaned, from across the room.

Noel turned round.

Julian almost jumped away at the look on his face. Noel was always pale, of course, but now he looked like a corpse: his skin white, and his eyes... his eyes were totally, horrifyingly empty, as though part of him had been ripped away. Which, in several ways, it had been.

Howard came crawling away from Naboo across the floor. Noel didn't try to get in his way; he just drew back, shuddering. He didn't seem interested in fighting with Howard over Vince any more.

Howard leant over Vince again, gazing at his face. He pushed Vince's hair back away from his eyes, as though in some way he might still be able to see and the hair could be obstructing his vision. Then Howard started sobbing again, shoulders shaking. After a few minutes he slumped over Vince's silent form, head on Vince's chest, and hugged the thin man against him.

Again, there was silence. Howard's body trembled as he cried. Noel, sitting on the floor, started crying as well, silently, eyes still fixed on Vince. But no-one else seemed able to speak, or move. It was as though they had all died when Vince did.

But, finally: "Look," said one of the BBC representatives, "Could someone please explain –?"

"Sign the contracts," Howard said suddenly, from the floor.

Naboo, Alexandra and Bollo all jumped.

"Howard, what are you saying?" Alexandra asked.

"I'm saying sign the contracts!" Howard's voice caught in his throat, and he sat up and looked at Julian.

Julian backed away, feet slipping on a few of the photographs. "I'm not –!"

"We didn't make you hate each other!" Howard said, voice squeaking painfully. "Why do you have to treat us like this?"

"Howard, we didn't –"

"Can't you just do this for me? If you're going to get rid of – of him – you have to get rid of me!"

"Howard, if Julian signs too, we'll all die!" Naboo said.

"Why aren't we dead already?" Bollo whimpered.

"Howard and Vince are the link," Naboo said, voice trembling. He seemed torn between understanding Howard's fear of living without Vince, and his own fear of being erased. "We're just extras," he said. "We only go if both Noel and Julian sign."

"Please..." Howard moaned.

"I'm not signing it," Julian said, shaking his head violently.

"Can't you just get rid of me too?" Howard wailed. "I can't live without him, I can't! You know I can't be without him! I was made to be with him!" He pressed his face into Vince's chest.

"It's all my fault," Noel whispered from the floor.

--

The ambulance did arrive.

The ambulance crew had to prise Vince away from Howard. They bent over him; they beat his chest; they gave him mouth to mouth – and eventually, one woman stood up and shook her head.

"I'm so sorry," she said, looking around the room. "I'm afraid he's dead."

There was silence. Everyone knew it already.

"Who's in charge?" the woman asked. One of the BBC bosses stepped forwards.

"We'll have to take him to the hospital, to get him examined – we'll need statements –" Their voices drifted out, unimportant, meaningless.

Two of the other ambulance men strapped Vince onto a stretcher. Howard held Vince's hand. He didn't seem able to let go when the ambulance crew lifted it up, so Vince's hand was just pulled out of his.

Howard stayed kneeling on the floor, staring, as Vince was carried out of the room. Even after the stretcher disappeared round the corner, he still carried on staring.

Naboo started across the room to Howard. He reached him, and put his hand on his shoulder again. He didn't seem to know what else to do. This time, however, Howard didn't pull away. Instead he reached up and gripped Naboo's hand.

After a few moments, Bollo went over to them. He put his arms around both Howard and Naboo, and the three remaining flatmates huddled together.

Julian couldn't watch any more.

They had killed their creation. Killed it. Torn the foundations of its world to pieces, slaughtered one of its inhabitants, and left the remaining ones alive but lost, with no idea of how to go on without one of the central people in their lives.

He gathered up the photographs from the floor, because there was nothing else to do.

Mike finally managed to move. He went across and sat on the floor beside Noel, trying to hold his brother – but Noel almost seemed to be made of ice himself.

--

Julian drove them all to the hospital.

Mike, Naboo and Alexandra had stayed behind to attempt to explain things to the BBC bosses – at least temporarily.

Julian drove almost without seeing the road – partly because his eyes kept misting up, but partly because he couldn't think without seeing the images of Vince dead.

Howard sat in the car behind him, eyes shut, huddled over. Bollo was next to him, leaning against him, trying to both give and take comfort at the same time – but Howard hardly seemed to notice him.

And Noel sat in the front. But Noel didn't seem to be there.

Noel didn't feel like he was there either.

He'd watched the man he'd been falling for die.

He'd watched himself die.

In every road, in every hedge, in every car they passed, in every off street lamp, in everything, there was Vince.

_And it breaks my heart... and it breaks my heart... in love..._

--

They had to wait a long time at the hospital.

Julian told the staff that Noel and Vince were twins. They were so busy rushing around that they didn't seem to notice that Julian and Howard looked suspiciously like twins as well. In fact, they were so busy that they didn't even seem to notice that there was a gorilla with them as well.

Then, they waited.

Howard gazed off into the distance, eyes damp and glazed, eyelashes still clumped together from crying.

Noel sat with his head bowed, clutching his hands in his lap.

Bollo paced.

Julian felt like he was suffocating.

"I'm going to the hospital cafe; does anyone want anything?" he asked.

Howard just looked at him.

Then he looked away.

Julian knew Howard thought he was being terribly insensitive. But he didn't know what else to do.

Noel gave the tiniest shake of his head. Bollo grunted, "Kit Kat."

Julian went off. But he didn't go to the hospital cafe. Not straight away, anyway. He went to the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. He almost expected to see Howard's agonised face staring back at him. It was a shock to see his own. But then he remembered that Howard's face was his own. Or was it? Howard looked like a separate person...

And Noel was alive, even though Vince, supposedly the same person as Noel, was dead.

Dead.

The strip of light on the ceiling buzzed unpleasantly.

And what Howard had said, back at the studios, was ringing round his skull agonisingly. "What if it was him lying there?"

Of course, it had crossed his mind. More than crossed his mind. Watching Howard holding Vince... it had been like watching a film of himself holding Noel.

He ran the tap and splashed cold water on his face. It didn't help. He looked tired. He looked _old_. That was what Noel sometimes used to call him, in their arguments. And on the TV show. Had it been a joke then? When did the jokes stop being jokes? Or maybe the jokes themselves didn't objectively change; maybe they had just looked at them differently.

Without being entirely sure why, he suddenly remembered the photos Howard had thrown at him. He'd picked them up but hadn't looked at them. He'd just stuck them in his jeans pocket. Now, feeling almost like he was acting in some sort of tragic movie, he got them out.

It was him and Noel.

Him and Noel standing together, arms round each other. Summer. Julian had sunglasses on. Noel was wearing a green t-shirt with flowers on and had one hip stuck out. He was laughing and holding his hat on his head.

Julian realised with a slight shock what pictures these were. They were the ones he'd given to Howard the first night he and Vince were at Julian's house, just as Noel arrived. He'd seen them on the sofa and realised that Noel would see them, and want to know what Julian was doing looking at old pictures of them together. Julian hadn't known what to do – he hadn't been thinking – he'd just thrust them at Howard and told him to hide them...

He realised, with a slight shock, almost as though he was realising what someone else felt, that he hadn't ever wanted to sign those contracts.

That was why he'd been sitting, night after night, looking at the pictures, remembering, wishing, hoping...

He suddenly realised how long he'd been in the bathroom. The others would be wondering where he'd gone. They might even go to look for him in the cafe and realise he wasn't there. He hurried out of the toilets hastily, almost knocking over a man on the other side. "Sorry, sorry," he muttered. He wasn't sure the man had actually heard – he looked pretty affronted – but Julian didn't really care anymore.

He went to the cafe. He got himself coffee – he needed it, badly – and got Bollo his Kit Kat. When he got back, Howard was still staring into space, Noel was still sitting with his head bowed, and Bollo was still pacing. They hadn't even thought about him.

Julian gave the Kit Kat to Bollo, who ripped into it as though his life depended on it. Then he sat down next to Noel.

Noel looked up at him.

Julian attempted a smile.

Noel's mouth quivered, and his head jerked back to look at his lap.

Naboo, Mike and Alexandra arrived eventually. Alexandra rushed to hug Howard, but once she had, she didn't seem to know what else to do. So she and Naboo sat together, holding hands, silently. Mike went to Noel. He put his arms round him again and they sat together. Julian moved away to sit in another part of the waiting room. He didn't feel like he belonged there. Noel needed Mike. Not him.

Eventually, one of the doctors appeared. "Are you the family of Mr Noir?" she asked.

Everyone just blinked at her.

"Yes," Julian said, scrambling up and hurrying back over to the others, before the doctor decided they were all mad. "Well, I'm not. I'm a friend. He is." He pointed to Noel.

Noel nodded, very slightly, as though it would hurt to do any more.

"He's his brother," Julian told the doctor.

"Is it him we should talk to about Mr Noir?" the doctor asked.

"Yes. Well. Do you think I could be there, too? He's not –" Julian gestured vaguely with his hands and the doctor seemed to understand. "Of course," she said. "I understand this must be very hard."

Julian went over to Noel. "Noel. Noel. They want to see us."

"Why me?" Noel muttered.

Julian lowered his voice. "They think you're his brother."

Noel groaned softly – but he got up.

Howard seemed to come back to life. "Where are you going?" he asked.

But it would be too risky to let the doctor sit with Howard and Julian in the same room for a long time. So Julian hurried Noel away before Howard could make a scene. He hoped the others would understand.

The doctor led them to her office and indicated some chairs. Noel and Julian sat. If anything, Julian thought, they were like parents. About to be told their child was dead.

The doctor shut the door and came round to sit at her desk. "Mr Noir," she said, looking at Noel, who was fortunately too wrapped up in himself for there to be a danger that he was pretending to be Vince's brother, "I'm Doctor Addams."

Noel gave another tiny nod.

"I'm sorry for your loss," Doctor Addams said. She shuffled some papers on her desk, and took off her glasses. "Mr Noir – Mr Noir?"

Noel looked up.

"Mr Noir," she said, "I hate to be blunt, but I think I should go straight to the point. We've run tests on your brother, Vince, and we can't work out what happened to him."

Noel stayed silent.

"I'm afraid we're at a bit of a loss. It's as though his body just suddenly shut down, but we can't work out why. He hasn't had a heart attack or a stroke or a brain haemorrhage. There are no drugs in his blood that might have caused it, or other poisons. No high blood sugar levels; no diabetes. And there are no symptoms of any untreated heart defects that could have caused it. So, to be quite frank, we're confused."

Noel still stayed silent.

Julian wondered if he should say something, but he wasn't sure what. After all, of course the doctors wouldn't be able to find anything wrong with Vince. There wasn't anything wrong with him. Not medically, anyway.

"Mr Noir," said Doctor Addams, "With your permission, we can do a full post-mortem, to try and find any more clues as to what happened."

Julian started to say that they didn't want that – maybe then there wouldn't be further outcry when, again, the doctors failed to find anything wrong with Vince – but Noel spoke first: "What does that mean?"

"I'm sorry?" said Doctor Addams.

"What does that mean? What will you do?" Noel's voice was an agonised whisper.

Doctor Addams got up and came round the desk. "Mr Noir," she said, "If you give us permission to do a full post-mortem – and we only will with your express permission – we would do a full examination –"

"Will you cut him up?" Noel asked.

Doctor Addams blinked. But then she said, "Well, yes, we would."

Noel shuddered.

"But don't think of it like that. We are careful with the body and you would still be able to bury him, once we've finished the post-mortem. And as I said, we will only do it with your permission –"

"Can we see him?"

Doctor Addams paused. Then she smiled and said, "Of course."

They went back through the waiting room to get the others – the 'family' of the deceased, Vincent Noir, who had died of so-far undetermined causes.

Doctor Addams led the odd group down the corridor: Noel first, then Julian, Howard right behind them, Naboo and Alexandra still holding hands and Bollo shuffling just behind them, and then Mike bringing up the rear, squeaking his shoes on the polished floor.

Eventually, Doctor Addams stopped outside a room. "He's in there," she said. "If you need anything, there's a bell to call the nurse." She opened the door for them.

Noel didn't move.

Eventually, it was Howard who went in first. The others followed silently. Noel came last. Suddenly he didn't seem to want to see Vince.

Vince was lying flat on his back on the hospital bed, with a white cover drawn up over him.

He looked so plain. So non-descript. In the white hotel room, with the white blanket, his clothes hidden. His black hair suddenly somehow seemed to make the whole scene black-and-white, where before it had been exciting and exotic.

It was like being in the hospital had stripped away all of what he was.

Howard just stood in the doorway, staring.

The others crowded round. Julian pushed the door shut. For a few moments, they all just looked at Vince, because there didn't seem anything they could do.

Then Noel went over to the bed. Slowly, he sat down on the edge, next to Vince, and looked at him. He reached out, paused, seemed to consider, and then leant over and, with almost agonising tenderness, stroked his hand over Vince's hair.

After another few moments, Howard went over to the bed as well. He didn't try to move Noel away. He went round to the other side of the bed and sat down there.

Bollo wiped his eyes. Alexandra gave him another hug.

"Bollo s'posed to protect precious Vince," the gorilla muttered. "Bollo useless failure."

"No..." Alexandra said soothingly.

"You weren't even there, Bollo," Howard said hollowly. "I'm meant to look after him. If I'd just got there a few seconds before..."

"It's my fault," Noel said.

No-one said anything. There wasn't really anything to say.

Noel took one of Vince's hands and pressed his face to it.

Alexandra leaned over to Naboo. "Is there nothing we can do?"

Naboo shook his head. "You can't rub out that he's been cancelled."

Noel's shoulders shook. He was still clasping Vince's hand to his cheek.

"But –" This was Mike, speaking up hesitantly. "Why can't – why can't Noel just start being him again?"

"Mike –" Noel moaned. "Mike, don't –"

"But why can't you?" Mike said.

"I told you," Naboo said. "It doesn't work like that. We can't rub it out once he's been cancelled..."

"But not rub it out," Mike said. "Noel's stopped being him, yeah. But why – why can't he just start being him again?"

"I _told_ you –" And then Naboo stopped.

"Mike, _please_, just don't..." Noel whimpered.

But Naboo was staring at Mike, brown eyes narrowing as though he was trying to work something out.

"Naboo?" Howard said.

"Naboo?" Alexandra clutched his hand.

Naboo swallowed hard. "I don't want... I don't want you to think..."

"What?" Howard asked, leaping up.

Naboo bit his lip. "Howard, it's quite likely it wouldn't –"

"Naboo, what were you going to say?"

Naboo hesitated. Then he said, "Mike might be right."

* * *

**Shocking cliff-hanger I know, and forgive me if there are any mistakes! I haven't had time to proof read, I'm posting this fast before going to dinner with my mum and brother.**

**Thanks for reading and all your kind words!**

**violence x**


	18. Vince Without Howard

**I'm back! And this was the most emotionally draining chapter I've ever written, for anything, ever! I was practically screaming as I wrote! But it was also very hard to write, so I hope you all think it worked! (I also hope no-one thinks this is a cop out, but, you know...)**

**Disclaimers:  
The Mighty Boosh belongs to Julian Barratt and Noel Fielding. All the acting bits are from scenes in the Boosh.  
All "real life" characters belong to themselves.**

**Big thanks to Lizzi for getting the words of the crimps for me.**

**Dedicated to everyone who was so affected by chapter 16!**

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen**

**_"I can't do Vince without Howard"_**

For a few moments, there was silence.

Then Howard said, "What? How?"

"Hope for precious Vince?" asked Bollo, eyes lighting up for the first time since he'd seen Vince on the floor at the BBC studios.

Naboo was looking nervous. "Look, guys, don't get too excited; it might not work – but I should've thought of it before..."

"What?" Howard was almost shouting. He rushed to Naboo. "What? What is it?"

"Naboo, tell us!" Alexandra said.

Naboo sighed. "Okay. Well, Vince needs someone to be him if he's going to stay alive –"

Howard whimpered faintly.

"But –" This was Julian. "But you said we couldn't wipe it out, after Noel –"

"You can't," Naboo said, "But Mike's right, there might be a way round that –"

"_What is it?"_ Howard screamed.

"Okay. If someone starts being Vince again, he might – we might be able to bring him back."

Another silence.

Everyone seemed to be in slow-motion as they turned to look at Noel, who was still on the bed, holding Vince's hand.

He started slightly. "What?"

"Noel," Naboo said, "If you start being him again, he'll come back."

Noel swallowed. He looked down at his fingers clasping Vince's.

Then he looked back at Naboo. "Okay," he said. "Okay, I'll be him again."

A tiny pause.

Then: "Oh God, nothing happened!" Howard whimpered, and Alexandra reached out to steady him.

Noel closed his eyes. His grip on Vince's hand tightened and he swallowed hard.

"I'm sorry, Howard," he whispered.

What he was sorry for – whether it was for not being able to bring Vince back, or whether it was for losing him in the first place – Howard couldn't tell. He was about to ask – but then Naboo said, "No! That's not enough!"

Noel opened his eyes again. His eyelashes were wet with tears. "Well, what is enough?" he asked, his voice breaking.

"You have to – you'll have to _be_ him."

"What do you mean?" Noel asked.

"You have to do what you used to do; you have to be him –"

"I have to act him?" Noel said.

Naboo nodded.

There was silence.

Then: "I can't," Noel said, shaking his head.

"But, Vince –!" Howard burst out. Alexandra clutched his arm, thinking she might need to restrain him.

"I know!" Noel's voice had risen several pitches. "But – but how can I act him when he's real? And when he's – when he's –" His voice cracked painfully, and he broke off.

"But you have to! He's –!" Howard exploded.

"Howard," Alexandra said, trying to keep the tremble out of her own voice, "Don't..."

"But how can you not do it?" Howard shouted at Noel. "How can you not want to bring him back?"

"Howard, I –"

"You're sitting there, holding his hand, but you won't even try to help him?"

Noel's head jerked at that. Like Howard had slapped him.

He looked at Julian, blue eyes swimming. Julian swallowed. He didn't say anything.

Noel sighed. "A'right," he said. "You want me to do it, I'll do it." He squeezed Vince's hand one more time, and then got up.

Howard swallowed heavily, and retreated a little. Alexandra patted his arm, trying to keep him calm.

"Look," said Naboo, motioning to Bollo to close the door so none of the doctors or nurses would see what was happening, "I don't know what's going to happen when we do this, and I don't even know if it will work..."

Noel nodded. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. Then he opened them.

"A'right?" he said, his voice slightly higher, slightly more casual-sounding, "I'm Vince Noir, rock and roll star."

Nothing happened.

"D'you like Gary Numan?" Noel said, flicking his hair slightly in a Vince-ish way.

Howard breathed in heavily. But still nothing happened. Vince lay silently.

"Fuck!" Noel burst out.

"What?" Mike asked.

"Fuck, I can't do it –" Noel growled.

"But –!" Howard gasped, starting forwards again – but Alexandra held him back.

"I can't do it! I can't do Vince like this! I can't do Vince without –" Noel broke off.

"Without?" Howard said desperately, thinking he would give Noel pretty much anything he wanted if he'd just try...

"Without?" Naboo repeated.

"Without?" Bollo growled.

Noel edged away from the gorilla a bit.

But his eyes were fixed on Julian.

"I can't do Vince without Howard," he said.

"Well, there he is; he's over there," Julian said, indicating Howard.

"Julian –"

"What?" Julian snapped.

"Julian, I can't do it with him. He doesn't the jokes or the routines or –"

Julian didn't like the sound of this.

"What do you want me to do?" he shouted, without meaning to raise his voice so much. But he and Noel hadn't acted together since – since –

Noel just looked at him. With those very big blue eyes that always seemed to get what they wanted...

"Fine!" Julian snarled. "Fine, I'll do it."

Noel didn't grin, or toss his head, the way he normally did when he got his way. Instead he just nodded. He looked nervous, nervous the way Julian felt. Perhaps because they were about to try and bring someone back from the dead – but also, perhaps, because this would be the first time they'd done anything like this together for months... so many months...

Julian moved to stand next to Noel.

"Right," he said.

Noel nodded again.

Julian breathed out, seemed to centre himself – and then straightened up. "Hello," he said, "I'm Howard Moon, and this is Vince Noir."

"A'right," Noel said, grinning instantly, one hip stuck out.

There was a faint humming sound in the air, hardly noticeable – but Naboo's head jerked slightly.

"You know the thing about Gary Numan is, he's a pop star –" Noel was already getting into the swing of the part.

"Don't talk to me about Gary Numan; I'm not interested." Julian folded his arms.

"He's a pop star, but he's got a pilot's license; how cool is that?" Noel laughed.

"I've got a pilot's license."

"You 'aven't got a pilot's license!"

"I have. I flew to work this morning..."

The humming had become slightly louder. Bollo noticed it and growled. Alexandra heard it too, and was about to ask Naboo what it was, when she felt Howard twitch against her. "Howard?" she whispered, looking up at him – and saw that he was staring straight ahead, mouth slightly open.

"Howard?"

"Shh," Naboo whispered.

"Don't touch me!" Julian said, across the room.

There was a slight pause.

"Aaaaaaaaaay," went both men, grinning at each other; Noel put his hand out – "Don't touch me," Julian said instantly.

The humming in the air was becoming louder, harder to ignore.

"Naboo, what's that noise?" Alexandra asked softly.

"Shh!" Naboo whispered again, more urgently now.

Julian started scatting. After a few moments, Noel slapped him in the face.

The air was starting to shiver, as though in a heat haze.

"Never disturb a man when he's in a jazz trance!"

Howard twitched again, much more violently. Alexandra noticed that his mouth had started to move, noiselessly, in time with the words Julian was saying.

"Naboo!"

"Shh! The link!" Naboo hissed.

The whole room suddenly rocked. Everyone staggered. Noel and Julian clutched each other. Alexandra caught Howard, who seemed to be frozen. The bed lurched. Vince slid sideways. As he moved, they saw that his mouth was slightly open, the air around him trembling...

"What's goin' on?" Noel gasped, trying to steady himself.

"No!" Naboo cried. "No, don't stop!"

"But –" Noel swayed slightly, not seeming to know what to do.

Julian seized Noel's shirt.

"Soup, soup!"

For a split second, Noel's face stayed blank.

Then he realised, and joined in the crimp: "A tasty soup, soup; a spicy carrot and coriander – Chilli Chowder!"

The air was seeming to gather itself up and shift, and glow – the air was glowing...

Looking at the bed, Alexandra saw Vince's mouth move.

"Crouton, crouton, crunchy friends in a liquid broth..."

Alexandra grabbed Naboo's arm and pointed towards Vince.

"I am gazpacho oh! I am a summer soup oh!"

Naboo saw what Alexandra was pointing to and his eyes widened. Vince's mouth was now definitely moving; he was still lying motionless, but his mouth was moving, in time with the words Noel was saying...

"Miso, miso, fighting in the dojo; miso, miso..."

The whole room was starting to shine now... and Vince was still mouthing along...

"Oriental prince in the land of soup!"

"Don't stop; don't stop!" Naboo shouted, as Noel and Julian came to the end of their crimp.

"It's working?" Bollo asked.

"Don't stop!" Naboo yelled at Noel and Julian, not bothering to answer his familiar.

Noel and Julian looked at each other rather frantically, and then, at the same moment, as though their minds were one, they both went: "Bouncy, bouncy, oooh such a good time! Bouncy, bouncy, shoes all in a line!"

Against Alexandra, Howard was shaking slightly, mouthing along with Julian – and on the bed, with the air seeming to whirl around him, a strange wind stirring his hair, was Vince, mouth still moving, faster now, more obviously now...

The humming was back, and the room lurched again. Alexandra had to seize Howard to stop him falling over. Bollo nearly landed on Mike.

"Don't stop!" Naboo screamed, clutching the wall as the room shook.

Noel grabbed the end of the bed; Julian clutched the chair next to it, and they went on: "Bouncy, bouncy, everybody somersault! Somersault! Summertime! Everybody sing along!"

The room lurched again. The humming sound increased to a roaring. The wind was picking up, blowing back Noel's hair, streaming Alexandra's against the wall...

"Bouncy, bouncy, oooh such a good time!"

The atmosphere in the room was really shining now, shining white. Vince's mouth was still moving; his face starting to shift as well...

"Bouncy, bouncy, white socks slipping down!"

The whole room rocked again. Bollo flew across to the opposite wall, this time almost crushing Naboo. Howard fell forwards towards the bed, and Alexandra, still holding him, staggered with him. They almost knocked Vince off the mattress as they crashed onto it...

"Keep going!" Naboo hollered, trying to force Bollo off him.

Noel and Julian, still gripping their supports frantically, looked at each other, and went on: "Bouncy, bouncy, stilettos are a no no!"

The room rocked again and Mike was knocked onto his knees. "What's happenin'?" he shouted.

"Shut up!" Naboo yelled, still struggling against Bollo.

"Bouncy, bouncy, oh!" – and as they chanted, the room lurched, and Julian lost his grip on the chair and staggered across the room. Noel seized his shirt and hauled him back upright. Clinging onto each other, they went on crimping: "Bouncy, bouncy, oh! Every time I bounce, I feel I touch the skkkyyyyyyyy..."

"Keep going; if you stop now –!" Naboo screamed.

Noel and Julian, still clinging onto each other as the whole building seemed to rock on its foundations, went straight into another crimp: "Jean Claude Jaquette, with his jacket on; Jean Claude Jaquette, with his jacket off –"

The whole room was white now, so blinding they could hardly see. The bed lurched and Noel nearly lost his grip, and Alexandra, still trying to hold Howard up, had to seize Vince as well to stop him falling off –

"Jean Claude Jaquette, puts his jacket on; Jean Claude Jaquette, takes his jacket off –"

The roaring in the air was louder and louder –

"Jacket on, jacket off, jacket on, jacket off, ooh! Stylish! Ooh! Wackaman!"

Through the glare, Alexandra thought she saw Vince move – thought she saw his arm move –

"Running round Paris, with a tiny haversack! Look into the future, with a telescope!"

"This building's gonna collapse!" Mike screamed over the noise.

"Drawing on the past with an eagle claw, eagle claw, why?"

"Naboo!" Alexandra screamed, as the room lurched again and Howard fell backwards, dragging her with him. "Naboo, this isn't –"

"Eagle claw, eagle claw –"

"We have to keep goin' –!"

"Bobba boing boing, take a fashion coin –"

"All gonna die!" Bollo roared, as the whole building seemed to swing sideways. Alexandra yelped as she and Howard slid across the room...

"Slot it in the pocket of your bum bag, take it to Japan –"

"Keep – going –"

And Vince seemed to move again –

"Take it to Milan –"

The room swung the other way; the air was roaring round them so they almost couldn't hear Noel and Julian any more –

"Take it to the man with the fashion plan –"

"Naboo!" Alexandra screamed, as the building lurched again and she and Howard were thrown forwards –

The roaring was deafening –

"JAQUETTE!"

And Vince jerked upwards and forwards and on the bed and gasped like someone saved from drowning.

"Oh my God!" Noel gasped, staggering even though the shaking stopped instantly. He threw himself onto the bed. "Vince – Vince! You're –"

"Noel!"

The two men threw their arms round each other and hugged as though they would never be able to get let go.

"Oh my God, it worked!" Alexandra gasped, from the floor, where she was lying half on top of Howard. She seized the man next to her. "Howard! Howard!"

"W-what?" Howard blinked at her blearily, only just coming round from being linked up to Julian. Then, he seemed to remember, and he said, "Vince!"

"It worked!" Alexandra cried. "Howard, it worked!"

Howard gasped, and hauled himself up, to see Vince on the bed, sitting up, hugging Noel and half giggling and half gasping with shock – and then he saw Howard over Noel's shoulder – "Howard!"

"Oh my God!" Howard cried, tears coming instantly, launching himself towards Vince. Vince detangled himself from Noel and the jazz maverick and the mod fell into each other's arms, laughing and crying at the same time.

"Oh my God – oh, Vince – Vince –!"

"Howard, I – you were –"

"You're alive; oh my God, you're alive –!"

"It worked!" Naboo said, across the room, still clutching the wall, seeming hardly able to believe it. Alexandra leapt up, rushed to him, flung her arms around him and kissed him. Bollo, on his own, made for the nearest person – Mike – scooped the smaller man up from where he was still half-sprawled on the floor, kissed him on both cheeks, and gave him an enormous bear (or was that gorilla?) hug.

"We did it!" Noel turned to Julian, grinning from ear to ear, even though he was almost in tears as well and his hair clung to his face from sweating with the effort. "We did it!" And before Julian knew what was happening, Noel's arms were round his neck and the two of them were hugging in a way they hadn't hugged in months, a year, more – but suddenly that didn't matter. What mattered was that Vince was sitting on the bed, alive, moving, laughing, clinging to Howard, hugging Naboo when he came over, hugging Bollo, hugging Alexandra, hugging Howard again, reaching out to hug Noel and Julian when they finally pulled apart, hugging Mike, who eventually managed to recover from the gorilla hug and make it to the bed, then hugging Howard fiercely again... and Howard was still in tears, holding onto Vince from behind as though he wouldn't ever let him go, and Naboo and Alexandra were holding each other, and Bollo was roaring and beating his chest in triumph, before things got a bit much and he had to have a puff of his inhaler to calm down... and Noel put his hands either side of Vince's face and the two men kissed almost desperately, and then Vince hugged Howard again, and the whole room was so full of noise and laughter and life – _life_ – that no-one thought of anything else except the life that was Vince, on the bed and grinning and wiping his face, and back.

* * *

**Woop woop!**

**Thanks everyone! :)**

**One more chapter and an epilogue to go, and then it's all over.**

**violence xx**


	19. Wind Beneath My Wings

**Right! I know I said only one more chapter, but I actually decided to split it in half, so this had more emotional impact. Also it was getting too long.**

**So all the people who didn't want it to end, you're lucky cos it'll go on longer!**

**Disclaimers:  
Mighty Boosh and its characters are owned by Julian Barratt and Noel Fielding.  
All "real life" characters belong to themselves.  
The songs used in this chapter are "Wind Beneath My Wings", which is from the film "Beaches"; "True Colours" by Phil Collins; and, once again, "Spit It Out" by IAMX.**

**This chapter was quite hard to write, and it is shamelessly fluffy... it's candyfloss! But ****I really, really hope it is to all of your satisfactions.  
(Lucie: Julian hugs!!)**

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen**

**_"I can fly higher than an eagle, if you are the wind beneath my wings"_**

Back at the hotel, Howard still couldn't let go of Vince. He kept his hand on his arm the whole time, staring at him as though he couldn't quite believe he was really there.

Vince himself seemed slightly dazed, but not at all physically harmed, by the whole experience. The doctors, of course, had been utterly baffled. When Naboo eventually left the room to tell them Vince was awake (he got some strange looks anyway, because of his robes) they had rushed back, and all gawped helplessly at the sight of Vince, the man they had pronounced dead less than an hour ago, now sitting up on the bed, hugging Howard and giggling happily, and clearly very much _alive_.

They'd run tests. All sorts of tests. They hadn't been able to find anything at all wrong with him and so, bewildered, they'd let him leave.

Everyone was slightly confused about why the doctors and nurses – and the patients, come to that – weren't all running around screaming that there had been an earthquake, but Naboo explained. "That was all just because of the link," he said. "No-one outside the room would have been aware of it."

Noel and Julian were both very quiet.

Naboo turned to them as soon as they got into the hotel room, arms folded. "I need to talk to you two," he said.

It was so like acting in the TV show that Noel and Julian almost laughed. Or they would have done, if they hadn't had so many other things on their minds.

Alexandra, knowing he wanted to discuss the fate of the show, ushered everyone else into the other room.

Naboo stood, somehow looking very formidable despite his lack of height, with his arms folded, waiting while everyone filed out. Noel and Julian shifted and looked uncomfortable.

As soon as the door closed, Naboo said, "Sit."

Noel and Julian both sat obediently on the sofa.

"Right," said Naboo, "As you now know, if you cancel the television show, we all die. And I want to make sure that you two ball bags aren't gonna try cancellin' again once we've gone home."

Noel and Julian exchanged a look.

Being yelled at by Naboo was a bit like being teachers getting told off by a student, or parents suddenly getting yelled at by their child.

"It's not like we would, is it?" Julian said. "After all that..."

There was a short pause.

"Look," said Noel suddenly, "I still don't get what you guys are doin' here..."

"What?" Naboo asked.

"I mean, how d'you get here? How could Vince walk through my wardrobe like that?"

Naboo nodded. "You two decidin' to cancel the show made our world start to fall apart," he said. "Y'know, things breakin', people vanishin'... and the portal. Things were unstable so they split, and they split leadin' to the source of the problems. There was a link between the two worlds: that's why we could do stuff like use our credit cards 'ere. That's why the portal closed up again as well... it wasn't stable."

"That doesn't mean you're stuck here, does it?" Julian asked.

"No," said Naboo, "I can open another gateway, a more stable one, but it's not that safe. It's bad to leave the doors open too long or open them too many times in one place, or too close to each other." He hesitated and glanced at Noel. "That means once we go... we won't really be able to come back."

Noel didn't need to ask what he was thinking about.

"It's for the best," Naboo said – but his face didn't really look as though he meant it. Although that might have been because he was also thinking about himself and Alexandra...

Then he seemed to pull himself together. "So," he said, briskly, "You'll promise me that you won't cancel?"

Noel and Julian both nodded.

"Good," said Naboo. And with that, he strode out of the room with a whisk of blue robes, shutting the door behind him, leaving Noel and Julian sitting on the sofa together in silence.

--

By the time they had left the hospital, it had been afternoon, and now it was almost evening.

"We'll go home tomorrow," Naboo told the others. "It's better like that anyway: you should normally leave about a week before openin' another portal."

The others all nodded. Alexandra was biting her lip. After a few moments she got up suddenly, without saying anything, and walked out of the hotel room.

Naboo followed her about five minutes later.

Alexandra was crouching by the wall in the corridor, staring at the rather ugly carpet. She didn't look up when Naboo came out the room. She didn't even seem to notice.

Naboo went over and knelt beside her.

Alexandra didn't acknowledge him – but then, after a slight pause, she said, quietly, "I don't want you to go."

Naboo swallowed. He had almost hoped she'd get angry with him, that there could be a reason for them to part on bad terms. That would hurt less than this. If she talked like that, he wouldn't be able to cope. He just wouldn't.

He paused, a thousand things swirling in his throat that he wanted to say, until he felt like he was choking. Or maybe that was just something to do with the tears welling in his eyes.

Alexandra looked up at him. Dampness round her eyes had smudged her eyeliner.

"I'm sorry," Naboo said.

"For what?" Alexandra asked.

"For this – this gettin' you involved in this –"

"No, no; I don't mind..."

"I meant us. Gettin' you involved in us."

"Oh." Alexandra rubbed her fingers under her eyes. "Well... I'm glad... glad I met you... but..." She broke off, voice shaking. "I don't want you to leave!" she suddenly burst out. "I – I know we still hardly know each other but – but I haven't ever met anyone like you... and when you're there I..."

"Yes?"

"I –"

"Yes?"

"I can feel... I can do the spells, you know, like I did at the show. Like the whole air feels different when you're there... and it feels... it feels like I'm meant to, or something. I feel... like it's right."

Naboo gazed at her beautiful, wet eyes, shining in the lights.

They both jumped when one of the doors swung and Julian emerged.

He didn't notice them, and Naboo and Alexandra both stayed quiet until he disappeared down the corridor, putting on his jacket.

"Alexandra," said Naboo, turning back to her, "I think... this world's not meant to have magic in it, but you..."

Alexandra looked at him.

"You... you really are magic... you really are a Wiccan. I dunno how but you are. And... and I mean, havin' magic in contact with you –"

"Helps me to do it," Alexandra finished.

Naboo nodded. "But now you've been in contact with it, it won't go away. It'll stay with you; you'll still be able to do your spells, even when I'm gone; don't worry about that –"

"Do you think that's the only reason I don't want you to go?" Alexandra said tearfully.

Naboo couldn't say anything to that.

There wasn't anything to say.

Alexandra reached out and gripped his hand. Naboo gripped it back, as though if he held on hard enough she might stay with him.

"Take me with you," Alexandra said suddenly.

Naboo jumped.

"Alexandra, you –"

"I'm serious; my family won't miss me; I don't have any real friends; no-one would care..."

"Alexandra..." Naboo said helplessly.

"I know." Alexandra bowed her head. She held his hand harder. He held on back, even though shamen didn't do love. And now Naboo understood why.

--

In the bedroom, Vince was gathering up all the new clothes he'd bought in Parallel Topshop. Howard was sitting on the bed, never taking his eyes off his friend, as though he might suddenly die again if Howard didn't watch him.

"Look at all this new stuff!" Vince said cheerfully, stacking it up on the other bed. He didn't seem remotely traumatised by the fact that he'd died and come back to life in the space of one afternoon. He really was a marvel.

"I'm gonna look genius at home," Vince was saying, "And no-one'll have the same things as me! Even Lance Dior couldn't get 'old of this lot!"

There was something about the younger man's happiness that made Howard want to choke up. Partly because he still couldn't quite believe he'd got his friend back, after coming so close to losing him forever. But also partly because Vince seemed so oblivious to what leaving tomorrow would inevitably mean, but Howard suspected that obliviousness wouldn't last...

Vince finally finished gathering his things. He stood back and admired the stack of clothes and other shiny things. Then he looked at his friend.

"Hey, Howard?"

"Yes, little man?"

"S'gonna be kinda weird going home, isn't it?"

"Why's that?"

Vince came and sat on the bed next to Howard. "Dunno... cos we'll know we're on telly and stuff."

Howard nodded. He hadn't really thought about that.

"I don't mind," Vince said. "I guess I'm kinda glad to know."

"Maybe," Howard said, not sure if he was.

"Anyway," Vince said, "We still got each other, don't we?" And he leant his head against Howard's shoulder. Howard relished the familiar, warm weight. He put his arm round the smaller man. "Course we do, little man." And comfortable silence fell. Until...

"Howard?" said Vince, after a minute. Now his voice was smaller. Softer. Not the kind of voice Vince usually used it – but if ever he did use it, it was more often than not to Howard.

"Yeah?" Howard said.

"Did I –?" Vince paused. "Did I really die?"

Howard started. "What?"

Vince twisted round and looked up at him with very big eyes. "Did I really die?"

Howard swallowed hard. "Don't... don't you remember?"

Vince shook his head. "Not really... I remember runnin', and coughin'... a bit of coughin'... but not much, really..." He broke off and looked at Howard, clearly expecting an answer. Howard always answered Vince's questions. But Howard didn't want to answer this question. He didn't want to remember.

"You're back now," he said, voice slightly growly with emotions. "You're back. That's what matters."

Vince nodded. "Yeah." And, as though to show that things were okay, he gave Howard one of his dizzy grins.

Howard really did choke up at that.

"Oh, come 'ere, you," he said, holding out his arms. Vince shuffled over happily and put his own arms round the jazz maverick. Howard held him tightly and Vince snuggled into his shoulder.

"I love you, Howard," Vince mumbled.

"Love you too, little man..."

--

Outside, it was starting to get cool. It wasn't quite near enough to summer for the air to stay warm once it grew later.

Julian needed to get outside. He needed to get away from everything, to clear his head. It was spinning, as anyone's would be, with the events of that day, and, really, the events of the whole week. In fact his head was so full of thoughts he wondered if it might explode.

Trying to distract himself, he got out his cigarettes and lighter and lit up. There was a slight irony there, he thought vaguely, smoking to clear your head. A cigarette lit, he tucked the rest of them, and the lighter, back in his jacket, and took a drag.

And then he stopped.

Noel was just a little way down the pavement.

He was sitting on the edge of the curb. Julian remembered often seeing him sit on curbs when he was drunk. But now, he wasn't wobbling backwards and forwards and giggling insanely. He was very still, and he had his arms wrapped round his black-drainpipe-clad knees.

He'd said, about an hour ago, that he was going to take Mike home. But maybe he hadn't. Maybe he'd sat out here all that time.

Julian was torn for a moment. Go over to him? Creep away and pretend he hadn't seen?

But, just as he was mentally darting between the two options, Noel looked round – as though he'd sensed someone was there – and his blue eyes fixed on Julian's brown ones.

So, no way to escape now. The choice was made for him.

Julian went over, slowly, trying to show that he was only doing it to for formalities. But with every step, he seemed to hear replays of their little performance in the hospital earlier that day. True, they had been doing it to bring someone back to life – but even so. Even so. It had been the first time they'd done anything together in so long... so surely it shouldn't have been so easy to remember all the old lines, the old songs... surely it shouldn't have been so natural for them to think in sync with each other the way they had... surely it shouldn't have felt so... good.

He reached Noel.

Noel gave him a faint smile as he did so, looking up at Julian from where he was sitting. "I thought you were quitting those," he said, nodding to the cigarette.

Julian felt a slight pang. He'd quit quitting several months ago. Noel hadn't even known.

But he didn't want to tell Noel this. So he just said, "I've had a very stressful week."

Noel nodded, and they fell silent. But this wasn't an angry, hurt-filled silence like the ones they'd become so used to. It was just a quiet silence. A contemplative one.

"That really was the power of the crimp, wasn't it?" Julian said finally.

Noel looked at him for a second – and then laughed.

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, it was."

Another silence.

Then Noel jumped up, the way he always did, on a sudden, random impulse. "Come on," he said. "This is boring. Let's walk."

"Walk where?" Julian asked, slightly taken aback, despite being used, after ten years, to Noel's erratic leaping from thought to thought.

"I dunno," Noel said, setting off into the road. He turned back and looked at Julian, and grinned. That old grin. "Wherever."

That was what it had always been like with Noel. It was like he bounded up to your door, a colourful, unstoppable force, grinning like an imp, and asked you to walk with him. He didn't know where you were going, or where you'd get to, and neither did you, but you went with him anyway. You went with him because he shone.

And now he was in the middle of road, the height of danger, one foot either side of the white line, and grinning again.

Julian didn't say anything else. He caught up with Noel and they crossed over to the other pavement, and went on walking together.

The sun was sinking, the sky turning a paler blue and the clouds a very light shade of pink. The city was somehow clearer than it was during deepest winter or the height of summer. Everything was in very sharp focus as the sun glinted gentle gold off the windows.

Julian finished his cigarette and dropped it by the curb. They carried on in silence, down to the river, as the gold shines on the windows finally faded when the sun disappeared over the horizon, and they were left in that strange transition time between day and night. The air seemed even clearer now, but without the sun, it was colder. Noel, only in his t-shirt, shivered a little.

"Are you cold?" Julian asked.

Noel shook his head. "Nah, not really."

"You can have my jacket..." Julian offered.

Noel gave him a look.

"What?"

"I'm not wearin' one of _your_ jackets!"

"Oi!" Julian nudged Noel and Noel giggled.

The last time they were here, Julian thought, as the London Eye loomed ahead of them, they had been searching for Vince. It felt like years ago but was actually only two days. So much had happened since then.

They stopped to watch a boat trundle past. Noel leant his skinny elbows on the top of the wall and propped his chin on his hands.

"Y'know," he said, suddenly, "We could just not make it official."

"What?" Julian asked.

"Endin' the show."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, like, we obviously can't officially cancel it – but if we didn't want to do it, we just wouldn't make any more."

Julian nodded.

"Yeah, you're right. We just won't do it. We don't need to make it official or anything."

Noel ran his hands over his fringe, messing with it. He seemed to be able to feel when it was perfect; it was like he had eyes in his fingers. After a second of hair concentration, his real eyes focused on Julian, as blue and clear and wide as the sky.

"Julian –"

"Mm?"

"Y'know, I –" Then he stopped. "Nah, never mind."

"What?" Julian asked curiously.

Noel shook his head. Now he seemed to be avoiding Julian's eyes. Was he embarrassed? Noel didn't get embarrassed. Ever.

"Doesn't matter."

"No, you can't do that!" Julian said. "You can't just start off and then leave me dangling like that."

Noel shrugged. "I'm the juicy dangler, remember?" His eyes met Julian's again, and suddenly they both laughed.

"Yeah, well," Julian said, "You might be, but this isn't a TV show... there's no rules... and I can make you tell me."

"That's weird!" Noel said. "Make me? You sound like some sort of torturer! What you gonna do? Play jazz at me?"

Julian laughed. "If I did do that, you'd crack in under a minute."

Noel considered.

"Yeah," he said.

Julian laughed again. "And remember, I'm the chav beater."

"I'm smaller than you; that's not fair!"

"Well, it doesn't matter. I don't hit girls," Julian said.

Noel blinked for a second, caught off guard. Then he snorted. "You are very cheeky." He laughed again and looked back over the river. As he did, the sunlight caught on the fading purple and brown of the bruise on his cheekbone.

Julian could still have cut his own arm off for doing that.

"I've already hit you once, anyway," he muttered.

Noel looked back at him. "What?"

Julian struggled momentarily to get the words out. "I said... I said, I've already hit you once. Once too many."

Noel was looking at him seriously now. "Ju... you mustn't beat yourself up about that..."

"I shouldn't have done it," Julian growled to himself. "I shouldn't have... not you..."

"Ju." Noel gave Julian's arm a little shake. "Stop it. I was bein' a tit." He smiled faintly. "So no self-flagellation, eh?"

"But... wait, no _what?_"

"You must know that word! _I_ know it!"

"I know it... I'm just amazed you do."

Noel stuck his tongue out. "Yeah, well. None of it." He paused. "I was, though. I was bein' a total tit. I don't blame ya for hittin' me. I'd have smacked my own face in, if I'd been you."

They looked at each other for a few moments. Another boat glided past, serenely, silently. A few lights were starting to come on across the river.

"Ju, y'know... I didn't mean what I said."

"What you said when?"

"When you 'it me."

"I know you didn't," Julian said.

"No, but Ju –" Noel grabbed his arm again. "C'mon, don't brush it off like that. I was just tryin' to get to ya. You know it was me that was all over you to start with." He laughed. "I thought you were awesome... I remember, I thought, I wanna be just like 'im."

Julian had opened his mouth to reply – but then registered this last sentence. It took a few moments because it was so utterly unexpected.

_I thought, I wanna be just like 'im..._

Julian stared at Noel, bewildered. "You – what – why?"

Noel laughed. "You were good! You were funny. And you seemed to be into the same kinda stuff as I was – well, you were – but you were, like, a more organised mature version of me."

"You _wanted_ to be mature?"

"Well, I mean, I don't..." Noel suddenly seemed embarrassed again. "But you know, when you're a kid, you think, right, if I 'ave to grow up, I'm not gonna be like my parents, I'm gonna be some cool grown up like Spiderman, or the President, or whoever it is... you're like, I wanna grow up to be 'im, and everyone else is like fuck off, you can't grow up to be someone else without the aid of serious plastic surgery and we ain't payin' for that – but anyway, I was still waitin' to grow up... I guess I'm still thinkin' I'll grow up... and..." He turned away. "Christ, this is comin' out so wrong... I mean, you need someone, don't ya?"

"Someone for what?" Julian asked.

Noel had bowed his head and was fiddling with his t-shirt. "Someone to look up to."

Julian opened and shut his mouth a few times. After this successful goldfish imitation had gone on for about a minute, he finally managed to say, "But... I thought you had Mick Jagger."

Noel just laughed vaguely, awkwardly.

"I just succeeded in makin' a right arse of myself, didn't I?" he said, after a few moments.

"W-what?" Julian asked, brought back to his senses.

"Christ, I must've sounded like a wanker... just forget I said all that stuff..."

Julian was slightly aware of nodding, but to be honest, he was too stunned and bewildered and – well – touched – to think much about it.

He had never, ever thought of Noel as looking up to him; as seeing him as someone he wanted to be like. Because, to be honest, he had always wanted to be more like Noel. More easy going. Freer. Brighter.

"But I don't –" Noel said suddenly. He broke off, but then seemed to decide to finish: "I don't think you're a waste of space."

"What?"

"The first night Vince came through the wardrobe, I remember, I called ya a great Northern waste of space."

"Yes. I remember too."

"Well... I don't really think that."

"Why are you telling me all this now?"

"Dunno – I just kinda wanted you to know... and after that it seemed kinda appropriate."

"Oh. Well. I don't really think you're like a prostitute."

"Yeah, you do."

Julian was rather hurt by that. "Noel, I'm trying to return the favour! You know, you say you didn't mean something; I say something back –"

"But you do think I'm like a prostitute, don't ya?"

"Well, I –"

"Admit it; I won't be mad!"

"Well, I –"

"See?"

"I don't _care_, though," Julian said suddenly.

Noel blinked at him. "What?"

"I never cared... you were fun, you were..."

Noel was staring at him. Julian felt his face flushing.

"You made... you made things exciting. Worth doing," he said, turning away from Noel. "You made... life exciting."

He could feel Noel's eyes fixed on him.

And, after a few moments... "Ju?"

"What?" Julian asked, more aggressively than he'd meant to, because all of this was getting too much and he could feel his throat closing up embarrassingly. But Noel wasn't put off. "Ju, if you thought that, why did you act like you hated me for bein' like that?"

"Because you –!" Julian spun round, flaring up, the way he always did – but then found Noel's bright blue eyes gazing at him and stopped.

And now he wondered how he'd ever turned on Noel.

"Because you acted like you didn't have time for me anymore."

"But I said – I don't – I don't think you're a..." Noel closed his eyes for a moment and swallowed. Julian waited, slightly breathlessly. There was nothing. A voice in his head seemed to be screaming: Tell him! Tell him! _Tell him! _But tell him what? What if it didn't work out... he couldn't put himself on the line like that... okay, Noel had, with all that looking up to him stuff... but Noel had always been more open anyway...

And Noel had that voice ringing through his head again... _Cos it breaks my heart, that we live this way... I know people need love... those people just play the game... cos it breaks my heart... cos it breaks my heart... _

"I miss you."

Neither of them was quite sure who'd said it until they looked at each other and realised they both had.

For a few seconds they were both frozen with shock.

And then:

"I miss you being like a prostitute!"

"And I miss you bein' a bit of an old git!"

"Old git?" Julian gasped.

"Well, you are a bit of an old git!" Noel's voice squeaked. "But that's what I love about you!"

"Oh, come here, you fucking idiot..." Julian seized Noel and pulled him into a rough, enveloping hug – and instantly Noel reacted, his arms snaking around Julian's waist. They clung to each other like reconciled lovers, Noel hiding his face against Julian's chest, and Julian nuzzling slightly into Noel's hair.

Finally, they drew apart.

"Are you cryin', Ju?"

"No... I've got something in my eye."

"In _both_ eyes?"

"Well... well, you have too!"

Noel laughed shakily, brushing his eyes with the back of his hand.

"God, we are the biggest fucking wankers..."

"You can say that again."

"We are the biggest fucking wankers!"

"Okay, now it's just you who's a wanker."

"'Ey!"

They both laughed again – and then dared to look at each other.

"Oh, fuck," Noel mumbled, putting his hands over his face.

"What?" Julian asked, concerned.

"Nothin'... it's just... oh, God." Noel leant his head on Julian's shoulder.

"_I can fly higher than an eagle, if you are the wind beneath my wings!_"

A car sailed past, blasting a corny old film song.

"Jesus Christ, what is this, a soundtrack?" Julian said.

"Mm..." Noel mumbled, still hiding his face.

Julian wiped his eyes while Noel couldn't see and laugh.

But then, it didn't matter if Noel laughed, because Noel had seen everything bad about him, and he might laugh, but he stayed. That was what was important. He stayed. He'd stayed even when they thought they were going to cancel. They'd kept coming back to each other.

"Said you were cryin'."

"How the hell did you see that?"

"I'm telepathic."

Julian groaned. "Great... I can't escape..."

"No, you know that," Noel said, twisting his head to look up at Julian. "When you first came to my house I warned you you'd never be able to leave... it was your choice to come in."

"I know."

"I reckon it was a very good choice."

Julian leant his head against Noel's.

"I reckon so too. One of the best I've ever made."

On the river, a boat, all lit up now in the gathering darkness, sailed by like a swan, gently tricking a tune over the glittering points of light that were London: "_I see your true colours shining through... I see your true colours, that's why I love you..._"

Julian rubbed his face against Noel's hair.

And the voice in Noel's head seemed to smile as it finally drew away.

_People need love..._

* * *

**hehe.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**violence xx**


	20. Back To Normal?

**Right! This is the last chapter before the epilogue! Epilogue will be up tomorrow, and then it's over!**

**Proper thanks and credits will be in the epilogue too, but as it's the last proper chapter, thank you all :)**

**Disclaimers:  
Mighty Boosh and all its characters belong to Julian Barratt and Noel Fielding.  
All "real life" characters belong to themselves.  
The first bit the Moon says, about bringing the dead man back to life, was written by Jamie (ButtonsMagoo) when we were on MSN, and I thought it was so funny I had to put it in. The "girls" refers to everyone who was happy about Vince coming back! Thanks Jamie.**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty**

**_"Everything's back to normal" (Or is it?)_**

Early the next morning, Naboo and Alexandra were up together. Naboo was holding open his book, tracing his finger along the lines, and Alexandra was lighting the handy Wiccan candle she usually carried around with her, to make the spell they were about to perform all the more potent.

They had realised, late last night, that they had left a lot of very confused BBC bosses, who now knew that the characters of one of their TV shows were alive and roaming London.

"But it doesn't matter," Naboo had said. "I can make 'em forget."

They had waited until early the next morning – the morning it was now – because that was when the spell had to be performed. Very early in the morning. So that, for those it was directed at, it would feel as though the previous day hadn't happened.

They were by the window, the curtains wide open so they could see when the sun started rising. Bollo was curled in a dark furry lump on the floor, near the bathroom door. Howard and Vince's bedroom was shut, concealing the sleeping men behind it. Noel and Julian were presumably in their room (they had returned to the hotel yesterday evening both looking rather exhausted but very happy, and Naboo and Alexandra had realised that any worries about the show being cancelled were gone).

So now, they were alone. Alexandra blew out the match she'd used to light the candle, and Naboo put the book down on the table next to it. He turned to check the sky outside.

"Almost sunrise," he muttered.

Alexandra nodded. And, as they watched, a glimmer of light began to appear in the sky, lighting up the buildings on the horizon.

Naboo and Alexandra joined hands, to make the magic more potent, and, as they stood there, the candle between them, and the fresh sunlight making their faces glow yellow-orange, they slowly recited the words together. As they did, they felt the magic they shared swelling inside them, swirling out of their fingertips and into each other's bodies, like they had completed an electrical circuit...

Even when the spell was done, and a portion of the air had shivered and shone and blown away over the city – going to its intended targets – they stayed holding hands, the remnants of the spell fizzing their fingers, their faces glowing with the dawn... gazing at each other.

Then, Naboo turned sharply away.

"Right... that's done..."

Alexandra nodded slowly. She knew why he was pulling away.

"I better..." Naboo stopped and seemed to take a moment to gather himself together. "I better go wake up the others."

Alexandra felt a surge of something shoot through her. "You're – you're going?"

"Yeah."

"_Now?_"

"Might as well." Naboo wasn't looking at her. After a few moments, he disappeared into Howard and Vince's room.

--

Vince was already awake.

He was sitting on the edge of his bed, hair freshly washed, dressed entirely in new clothes he'd bought from 'Parallel Topshop', as though he was preparing himself for some terribly exciting event he needed to dress up for. But his face gave him away. It was screwed up. Drained of all emotions.

Howard was awake as well. He was lying in his own bed, staring at the ceiling. He looked up when Naboo entered (something Vince didn't even seem to register).

"Mornin'," Naboo said, voice much more cheery than he felt.

Howard raised a hand rather weakly in greeting. Vince still didn't react.

"Vince?" Naboo asked.

Still, Vince stayed motionless. He was twisting his hands in his lap.

Naboo looked at Howard. Howard looked back, shook his head, and mouthed one word.

"Noel."

Naboo didn't need to try too hard to imagine what Vince was feeling.

"I've come to tell ya both we're goin', soon as you're ready," he said, coldly, because that was easier than trying to help make this better.

Vince did move at that. He spun round. He didn't speak, but his face was agonised. Pleading.

"Vince, we got to go. Now it's all been sorted out," Naboo said.

Vince said nothing. But he lowered his eyes, breaking the look he and Naboo had shared.

After a few moments he got up and walked out of the bedroom. They heard Alexandra say, "Vince..." but there was no reply and, next second, another door closed, a bit further off.

Alexandra entered.

"He's gone to see Noel," she said, quietly.

Naboo nodded. He looked at Howard. "What's he said?" he asked.

"Not much," Howard said, sitting up in bed. "When I woke up he was already dressed. I think he realised this morning; he was fine yesterday. Realised that we won't be able to come back, I mean."

"He hasn't – he hasn't said anythin' like he wants to stay, has he?" Naboo asked.

"No," Howard said, "Why? Did he say that to you?"

"No," Naboo said quickly, trying to calm Howard down, "I just thought he might think it." He didn't look at Alexandra, but she knew where this idea that Vince might want to stay with Noel had come from. Her.

--

Noel and Julian were still asleep when Vince found them. On the sofa of their room. They'd obviously stayed up too late the night before, and had fallen asleep on each other. Noel was resting his head against Julian's head, his dark hair falling softly over his face, his eyelashes very visible against his chin. The shadows of stubble were visible across his sharp cheekbones from not shaving.

Vince thought he looked like a painting. But a better painting than Vince could ever hope to do himself. One those paintings you saw in big art galleries, of flawless faces and shining light from heaven.

Perhaps, Vince thought, this would be easier if he just left the room again, and he, Howard, Naboo and Bollo vanished as suddenly as they had come, with no goodbye.

But although his stomach felt like it was being twisted into knots, he couldn't bear the thought of going with nothing else.

He crept across the room and reached the sofa. He leant over Noel, reaching out to touch him, shake him awake. But, as soon as he did, Noel's eyes fluttered open, a stunning blue even though they were dull and sleepy.

There was a second's pause while Noel looked up at him, beautifully oblivious to who it was there and so, so vulnerable... and then recognition flashed across his face.

"Vince."

He sat up, edging away from Julian, who shifted a bit and mumbled in his sleep.

Vince tried to smile, but for once, it seemed to get lost on the way to his face. He wasn't entirely sure where it went. Maybe down into his stomach, to add to how sick he felt.

"Ya made up," he said, nodding to Julian on the sofa.

Noel nodded, running his fingers through his hair. He stretched, yawned – and then looked at Vince properly.

"You okay?"

Vince swallowed hard.

"What is it?"

"We're..." Vince hesitated. "We're goin'."

"What?"

"We're goin'." Vince's voice shook a bit. "We're goin', Naboo said. Soon as Howard's ready, lazy bastard didn't get up so..." Vince's voice wavered, then lost its momentum and drooped.

Noel was staring at him. He got up off the sofa. "You're... you're going _now_?"

"Soon as Howard's ready, like I said." Vince swallowed hard, suddenly feeling tears prick painfully.

"But –" But Noel didn't really seem to know where to go from there, because he stopped.

There was silence for a moment.

Then:

"Noel?" Vince looked up at him again, tears now trembling in his eyes.

"Yeah?" Noel said.

"What we gonna do?"

Noel closed his eyes for a second. Then, he said, "There's nothin' we can do, is there?"

"Noel, don't..."

"Please – don't, Vince. You've got to go. And – and we both knew. We're the same person –"

"But we're not," Vince said, voice rising slightly. "Look, we're different. We're two different people; look at us."

Noel didn't look. He turned away, towards the window. There was a horrible silence, broken only by Noel breathing heavily.

After a few minutes, he said, "You're leavin', anyway."

Vince couldn't argue against that.

"I'll miss you," he said, finally, voice very, very small.

Noel turned round at that.

"Vince, look, we've got to agree, we're not going to let this ruin our lives or anythin', right?"

"What?" Vince asked. He could tell his make-up was getting smudged, but he didn't even care. It seemed amazingly unimportant. Why did I ever care about stuff like that? he wondered.

"I mean," Noel said, "If we spend the 'ole time wishin' we could see each other again, we're just gonna be depressed. We've got to agree we won't do that."

"But Noel –"

"Vince –"

On the sofa, Julian stirred.

"C'mon," Noel said, "Let's go out in the corridor..." And he hurried out of the room, Vince dashing after him desperately.

"Look," Noel said, as soon as he'd shut the door, "I'm not sayin' it'll be easy, but y'know, we've gotta say we won't regret it, and if we meet someone else we won't feel we've got any duty or whatever to each other – oh Vince, please don't cry –"

"I'm sorry," Vince said, voice shaking. He tried to wipe his face but as soon as he did, more tears came.

"Don't apologise, either!"

"S –" Vince managed to stop himself apologising again.

After a few moments, he looked up at Noel, who was clutching his forehead as though he had a very bad headache.

Vince reached out and stroked Noel's cheek. Noel looked up at him. Vince leaned towards him –

"Vince, don't."

Vince swallowed.

"You're right," he said, finally. "We're goin'."

He sounded so heartbroken that Noel put his arms round him, even though he knew this would only make it worse in the long run. Vince nuzzled into his shoulder, shaking. Noel held him tightly.

"You won't forget about me, will ya?" Vince mumbled.

"How the hell could I do that, Vince; I act you..."

"Well, _I_ won't forget 'bout _you_..."

--

"I can't keep this gateway open too long," Naboo said. "It's dangerous, especially with us havin' been here for a week already; things are unstable – although," he added, looking at Noel and Julian, "Not quite as unstable as before."

"Now things are – okay," Julian said, rather hesitantly, "Your world will just be normal again, won't it?"

Naboo nodded.

"All of you, say your goodbyes now," Naboo said. "Then we'll go." He turned away and opened his book. He didn't seem to want to say goodbye to anybody. Alexandra was sitting on the sofa, not looking at anyone – but when, after an awkward pause, Vince rushed and hugged her, she reacted and hugged him back.

Vince went to Julian next. He threw his arms round his neck. Julian staggered slightly, but managed to hug Vince back. Alexandra gave Howard a hug, quite gently because he didn't like to be touched.

"Thank you," Howard said, when she'd released him. "You've been – really great."

Touched by this fumbling gesture of friendship, Alexandra gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Howard went bright red.

Bollo seized Noel and Julian, one in each arm, and squeezed them. "Big idiots," he said, rather gruffly.

"Yeah," said Julian, when they were eventually released, "Thanks, Bollo..."

"Not mention it," Bollo said, holding up a paw humbly.

Howard and Julian shook hands rather formally.

"Look," Howard said, dropping his voice as though he didn't want anyone else to hear, "You know, if you do make another series... don't make me do anything too embarrassing, will you?"

Julian decided not to say that part of the point of Howard was that he did embarrassing things. He just smiled vaguely and nodded.

Bollo came to Alexandra. She hugged him especially hard.

"Look after Naboo, yeah?" she muttered to him.

"Bollo think Alexandra do better job of that," the gorilla said.

"I know, but – I can't, can I?" she mumbled, rubbing her face in his fur.

"Bollo think Alexandra happier with us. Bollo not see why Alexandra not come too."

"Well, it wouldn't really – I mean, we're from two different worlds, and people might notice I'd gone..."

"Bollo think Alexandra make excuses," said the gorilla fondly. He squeezed her again. "Goodbye, magic lady."

"Bye Bollo," Alexandra muttered.

Howard and Noel didn't really have a goodbye, as they seemed to have spent most of the time fighting for Vince's attention. But they nodded at each other. As a kind of truce.

"You all done yet?" Naboo, who had kept his back turned throughout all this, finally spoke.

Howard glanced at Vince, wondering if he and Noel were going to say goodbye – but Vince was looking at his feet, and Noel wasn't moving, so – "Yeah, think so."

"Okay," Naboo said. He turned to look at Noel and Julian. "Now, I've made all the BBC bosses forget, magically of course – so no mentionin' that Vince dyin' stuff to 'em. And remember. No cancellin' on us."

Noel and Julian both shook their heads.

"Right." Naboo held up his book and began to chant.

And, as everyone watched, the familiar blue glow appeared in the room. It widened, slowly, until there was a gently glowing, twisting gap in the centre of the hotel room.

"Careful," Naboo warned. He scooped up his spell book. "This is a short-term portal," he told Noel, Julian and Alexandra. "It will stay open about ten minutes after we go, so don't let anything fall in, yeah?"

Alexandra got up suddenly.

"Naboo –"

"Don't," he said. He swallowed determinedly, and walked into the portal. Instantly, his form shivered, getting half eaten up by the gently throbbing blue cloud and electricity. "Come on," he said, his voice a bit fainter now. "We 'aven't got all day."

"Bossy," Bollo muttered, and followed his master into the portal.

"Howard. Vince."

Howard and Vince looked at each other.

"Ready, little man?"

Vince hesitated, and then nodded.

Julian glanced at Noel. Noel's eyes were shining, but his face was expressionless.

Howard and Vince walked into the portal – and then, Vince turned. And his eyes met Noel's.

And he ran back out of the portal, rushed to Noel, threw his arms round him and kissed him hard. Noel couldn't do anything but kiss him back.

For a few seconds, the two men stayed in each other's arms, clinging to each other, nuzzling, stroking each other's hair. Vince stroked Noel's face. Noel took his hand and kissed it.

"Goodbye," Vince whispered.

"Bye."

And then, Vince drew away, and walked back towards the portal, and in. They could see Howard, and they watched as Vince took his hand. He turned round, gave them all a wave – and then, the shapes of the jazz maverick and the mod turned and walked away, fading into the portal.

The only sound was the humming of the portal.

Then: "Oh God," Alexandra gasped, and clapped her hand to her mouth.

Noel nodded.

Alexandra got up and rushed to the edge of the portal. She peered in but all she could see was pulsing blue light.

"Careful, you might fall in," Julian said.

"Mm..." Alexandra murmured, still peering into the portal.

_Bollo think Alexandra happier with us. Bollo not see why Alexandra not come too._

_Bollo think Alexandra make excuses._

Alexandra spun round. "Well, great to have met you both!" she said suddenly. "And I did love the show, when I could watch it!"

"What?" Julian cried.

"She's goin'," Noel said.

"But – the show –"

"Don't write me in!" Alexandra said, "And I won't be in it! I'll be hiding upstairs! Promise! I'll make sure they're all right –" She looked at Noel "– and I'll –"

Noel was nodding at her. Telling her to go. "Tell 'im –"

"Yes?"

"Tell 'im I'll miss him."

Alexandra smiled. And then, as though she didn't have a care in the world, she turned, and rushed into the portal. Her form shivered. The last they saw was the shape of a girl running into a blue distance – and then she vanished – and a moment later, the portal too was gone.

For a long time, there was silence.

"Well," Julian said finally.

Noel wiped a hand over his face, turned to Julian, and smiled.

"You all right?" Julian said.

"Yeah. I'll be fine."

"We should check out, go home."

"Yeah. We should."

"You know, Howard asked me not to make him do anything else embarrassing..."

Noel laughed. "But that's the point of him!"

"I know, but I didn't really think I could say that, could I?"

"Nah. Prob'ly not."

They fell silent again.

"We won't tell anyone about this, will we?" Julian said.

"Course not, they'd think we were mental."

Julian shook his head. "I don't know – maybe we are."

Noel smiled. "Well. If we are, I think we make bein' mental pretty cool." He linked his arm through Julian's.

"Are you happy already?"

"No," Noel said, "But you don't care, do ya?"

"Of course I don't."

And they walked out of the hotel room. Together.

--

The portal opened up onto the street outside the Nabootique. It was night time there, even though it had been morning when they'd left Noel and Julian.

Naboo stepped out first, looking up at the familiar sky, breathing the familiar air. Across the road, the shop stood proudly – and Naboo saw, to his relief, that it looked normal now. The last time he'd seen it, it had been wrecked, but Noel and Julian making up had obviously cancelled that.

But he wasn't happy.

Bollo came next. "Home sweet home!" he boomed cheerfully – and then noticed Naboo's rather hunched form.

"Naboo?"

Naboo didn't reply.

Bollo, guessing what was wrong, laid a paw on his master's shoulder.

Howard and Vince joined them a moment later.

"Wow," Howard said, wobbling slightly as he came out of the portal. "It's like we never left. It's like all that never happened."

"Look," Vince said, pointing.

Down the street, a man was selling newspapers. The boards beside him proclaimed the headline: "Dixon Bainbridge found alive."

Naboo nodded. "Everything's back to normal," he said. "I thought it would be."

They all stood in silence, looking up and down the street. Then, they all heard a familiar voice.

"Uhh and so, Noel and, uh, Julian brought back the, uh, dead man with a song about a French man, and the, uh, girls danced and 'ad a, uhhh, party! I'm the moon."

"Hello, Moon!" Vince called.

"Oh. 'Ello, lady," the Moon replied, winking at Vince. Then he laughed. "I'm a lover Moon. Mr Lover-Lover Moon." And he rolled back round to look off into space again.

"Never thought I'd miss 'im," Vince said, giggling. But then his face fell. "But... he mentioned Noel..."

"Vince," Howard said, reaching out to put his arm round his friend.

"No, it's just... I don't get it... 'ow does he know?"

Naboo sighed. "The thing is," he said, "We're more independent of them than they think."

"What?"

"Well, they created our world, but we... I could feel it. A few more years and we'll be able to exist without 'em. And, I have to admit, the Board of Shamen is aware of the existence of other worlds –"

"You knew about them before?" Howard gasped.

"No, no, I didn't. But the Board does know there are other worlds, and so, I'm not surprised the Moon does too –" But before he could say anything more, they heard another voice.

"Naboo! _Naboo!_"

And a figure came rushing out of the portal, which was just starting to close, and threw itself at the shaman.

"What the –?" Bollo cried.

"Who's that?" Vince squealed.

"Alexandra?" Naboo gasped.

Alexandra pulled back. "Bollo said I was making excuses and I'd be happier here and – well – here I am!"

"But Alexandra, you just left your world, everythin', to come _here?_"

Alexandra laughed rather hysterically. "Yes!" she said. "Yes, I did!"

"You're a mentalist," Naboo said, shaking his head. And then suddenly his arms were round her. "Are you _sure?_ I should send you back – but openin' another portal would be risky for a while –"

"Well," Alexandra said breathlessly, "At least let me stay until it's safe to do that."

Naboo hesitated, gazing at her.

"Naboo?"

Naboo reached out and stroked her face.

"I reckon we could stretch to that..."

"Alexandra!" Vince squealed. "You'll be stayin' with us?"

"Yes! Well, certainly for a while –"

Vince hugged Alexandra.

"Vince," Alexandra said, "Noel, before I left –"

Vince blinked at her.

"He said to tell you he'll miss you."

Vince's eyes welled up and caught the light from the moon.

"Vince..." Howard started, but Vince was smiling. He didn't say anything, and the others didn't know that he was remembering the conversation earlier, when he'd told Noel he'd miss him and Noel hadn't replied. Vince stayed quiet. That was private. But he still smiled.

There was silence.

Then, Naboo looked at Alexandra and said, "So... do you want to see where you'll be stayin' for the next two months, until it's safe to send you home again?"

"_At least_ two months," Alexandra corrected.

"We'll see," Naboo said, sounding like a strict teacher – but when Alexandra leant against him, he put his arms around her. The two of them walked, snuggled up together, back towards the shop.

Howard just shook his head. Then he turned to Vince. "Vince? You are all right, aren't you?"

"Course," Vince said. "I'm the sunshine kid."

Howard laughed. "Nothing will ever really make you unhappy, will it?"

"Dunno," Vince said – not his usual answer. "But I'm a'right, for now."

"Good," Howard said quietly.

"Howard?"

"Yes, little man?"

"That was kinda fun, wasn't it?"

"No! You died!"

Vince laughed. "I know – and there was Noel – but it still was fun!"

Howard groaned. "You are a hopeless case, Vince."

"That's why you love me, though."

"Yes it is," Howard said seriously.

"Howard?"

"Yeah?"

"I really love you too."

Howard suddenly found himself choked up. So he just put his arm around Vince instead, and leant his head against Vince's. "C'mon, little man."

"Two sides of a coin, Howard?"

"Forever, Vince."

"Urgh," groaned Bollo, behind them. "Fluff!"

* * *

**Epilogue, credits and thank-yous up tomorrow!**

**Thanks for reading!**

**violence x**


	21. Epilogue & Credits

**Epilogue**

_One year later_

_MIGHTY BOOSH TO RETURN TO TELEVISIONS_

_The Mighty Boosh is due to return to BBC Three this coming autumn, according to its creators._

_Stars of the series Noel Fielding and Julian Barratt, who haven't worked for nearly a year, announced yesterday that they were preparing to start filming a new series that would air later this year._

_"We've taken some time to sort out some issues, and we're really excited about the new material," they said in a press statement..._

--

It was night time, and quite hot for that time of year.

So hot, in fact, that it was difficult to be inside.

Howard and Vince were sitting together on the roof of the apartment. They liked the roof. It gave them a good view over London. It was a place to contemplate, and a place to talk.

Perhaps the roof should have been an awkward place for them to be, given what had once happened there, but it wasn't. Howard and Vince had never been the kind of people to let small things get in the way of their friendship. Also, strangely, it actually made things easier, knowing that had been written for them to do. It meant they didn't need to blame each other.

That night, they were both quiet. Vince was eating a packet of toffee popcorn, and the rustling of the wrapper as he stuck his hand in and out of the bag was the only sound. That and the odd gentle murmur of an engine from a car or bus in London below. Windows glowed contentedly. The Moon was full and bright. The stars were out. A magic carpet soared across the horizon in the distance. It might have been Saboo (who had been found unharmed, with Tony Harrison, at the Black Lake, near to a rather confused but otherwise fine merman) but they couldn't be sure.

Howard and Vince were both thinking about what had happened earlier.

There had been a tap at the door – a familiar knock. Alexandra's knock.

After she'd been with them nearly half a year, they'd reorganised to accommodate their new living arrangements. They'd converted the loft and Alexandra and Naboo, and Bollo, had moved up there, with Howard and Vince staying below. Vince called the original flat, the flat they now shared, the "bachelor pad". Bollo said really he should live in it too, as he was also a bachelor, and living with Naboo and Alexandra could be slightly sickening, but as he was Naboo's familiar, he was needed upstairs. Secretly, he quite liked that Naboo couldn't work without him.

Alexandra and Naboo had been quite busy recently, working on something they wouldn't tell Howard and Vince about. Bollo had privately confided to Vince that it involved other worlds. He said that, a couple of months ago, Naboo and Alexandra had made contact with someone from another world. A completely new world. Howard and Vince weren't supposed to know. Bollo was supposed to be sworn to secrecy on pain of having Naboo's back turned on him. Howard and Vince, consequently, hadn't mentioned that they knew to either Naboo or Alexandra.

It was a Sunday, which was when Naboo and Alexandra usually did a lot of work (as the shop wasn't open that day – Alexandra quite liked helping out in the shop on other days, so she wasn't always free). So they'd been quite surprised when, earlier that day, she had appeared at the door.

Howard had opened the door for her, to find her grinning all over her face, looking slightly flustered, but very, very happy.

"Alexandra, hey."

Alexandra beamed. "Howard, I've got something to tell you!"

"What?"

Alexandra's smile broadened even more, and she put her hand on her stomach.

Howard guessed.

"Are you –?"

Alexandra nodded, her smile threatening to break into laughter.

Vince appeared.

"A'right, Alexandra?"

"Vince!" Alexandra said. "I've got news!"

"What news?"

Alexandra looked at Howard, who was grinning.

"I'm having a baby."

"_Seriously?_" Vince had shrieked.

"Yeah!"

"Oh my God!"...

"Howard?" Vince said, suddenly, through a mouthful of popcorn.

Howard looked up. "Yes, little man?"

Vince was looking as though he was thinking very hard. Then, he said, slowly, "I thought Naboo was asexual."

Howard looked at him.

Then he suddenly burst out laughing. "So did I!"

Vince started giggling too. "You reckon we should ask how that worked?"

"_No!_ We couldn't ask that!"

"But they're our friends!"

"You don't ask your friends about their sex lives, Vince!"

"I do."

"You never ask me."

"That's cos you don't 'ave a sex life," Vince said.

Howard rolled his eyes and Vince giggled again. Then he let out his breath. "One of these days, Howard, I'll find someone for ya. I will."

"I can find someone on my own, thank you, sir!"

Vince giggled again.

"Oh, stop it," Howard huffed.

Vince carried on giggling for a little while. Then his laughter subsided. He put some more popcorn in his mouthful, thoughtfully. "Howard?"

"Mm?"

"D'you reckon I should just be Vince, or Uncle Vince?"

"What?"

"For the baby."

"But, Vince, you won't be the baby's uncle."

Vince blinked. "Huh?"

"Vince, for you to be the baby's uncle, you'd either have to be Alexandra's brother or Naboo's brother, and as you're not either, you won't be the baby's uncle."

"Oh."

There was a pause.

"I could kind of be Naboo's brother."

"How's that, then?"

"Noel and Mike," Vince said.

Howard turned to look at him.

Vince was looking straight ahead now. He was taking another mouthful of popcorn. It was difficult to read his face in profile. His nose stood out distinctively against the sky and the disappearing lines of chimneys and television aerials.

"Vince?"

Vince looked at Howard then. Straight at him. His blue eyes were very big.

"Vince, do you –?" Howard paused. He knew this was delicate. They didn't often talk about it. "Do you... I mean, are you okay?"

Vince looked at him questioningly.

"About... you know... do you miss him?"

Vince smiled at that, slightly sadly.

"Always."

There was a little pause.

"But s'okay. He's kinda here, in' he?"

"I guess..."

"I am okay, Howard," Vince said, suddenly looking a bit worried that Howard might think he was depressed. "Honest."

"Really, little man?"

"Yeah," Vince said. He shifted over and leant his head against Howard's shoulder. "Yeah, I really am."

Howard decided that, as long as Vince was okay, nothing else mattered much. He let the smaller man lean on him, without complaining, suddenly finding he didn't care about being touched. After a few moments, on a whim, he reached over and grabbed some of Vince's popcorn. Vince gave him a gentle dig in the ribs, and nestled his head closer to Howard's neck.

And they looked out peacefully over the city, and up at the sweet, deep blue sky with its stars hanging as though they'd been glued there, and the Moon, his face like whipped cream, who was singing softly to himself: "Imagine me and you, uh, I do… I fink about ya day and night, uh, only right… we're happy together… I can't see me, uh, love nobody but you, all my life…

"I'm the MOOOOOOOOON!"

_The End_

* * *

**Credits**

Mighty Boosh characters used/mentioned:  
Vince Noir, Howard Moon, Naboo, Bollo, the Moon, Dixon Bainbridge, Bob Fossil, the Board of Shamen, Rudi Van DiSarnio, Spider Dijon, Old Gregg – all belong to Julian Barratt and Noel Fielding.

"Real life" characters used/mentioned:  
Julian Barratt, Noel Fielding, Michael Fielding, Russell Brand, Amy Winehouse, Kate Moss, Mark King – all belong to themselves.

Original characters:  
Alexandra, and all extras.

Music:  
Umbrella – Rihanna  
Goodbye To You – Michelle Branch  
Cars – Gary Numan (sung by Vince, Noel and Julian)  
Don't You Want Me Baby? – Human League  
Don't You Know I Want You? – Human League  
Foundations – Kate Nash  
Spit It Out – IAMX  
Iris – Goo Goo Dolls  
Fergalicious – Fergie  
Wind Beneath My Wings – Bette Midler (from "Beaches")  
True Colours – Phil Collins  
Happy Together – The Turtles (sung by the Moon)

violence4 would like to thank:  
Beechwood0708  
stars of andromeda  
Ceni Vonir  
chugirl2526  
SparkieSteph  
ButtonsMagoo  
SusanWerewolf  
prepare4trouble  
-Sassy-Saz-  
JellybeanPunk  
lori-loves-the-boosh  
BeckyRocks-x  
Alestrel  
Dior Ryder  
x Thursday Next x  
and, of course, LixiPixi – Rapists in Disguise forever!!

Everyone else who read this  
Everyone who reads it in the future (if anyone!)


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